Deep in the Heart
by boswifedeb
Summary: Hoping to spend more time with the family after finishing his fire investigator training, Matt returns to Texas only to be called in on a series of murders where the victims have all had their hearts removed. But catching the killer isn't his only problem, as he finds out after a collision on a bridge. Rated T for language and violence. **Immediately follows "Homicide Hollywood Sty
1. Chapter 1

**"Deep in the Heart"**

 ****Immediately follows "Homicide Hollywood Style"**

" _ **When a parent loses a child, there is no greater pain."**_

 _ **Sylvester Stallone**_

 **01 - Touch Down**

"Daddy!" Catey Rose was finally released from her mother's grasp and ran across the tarmac to meet her dad as he descended the steps of the jet.

"Hey there, Lady Bug!" Matt dropped his bag on the ground and swept the little girl up into his arms. A flurry of kisses landed on his face as she began telling him all about the goings-on of the Texas ranch while he had been in California finishing up his training as a fire investigator. CJ joined the pair in a minute and as the couple shared a kiss, their daughter pulled both into a choking bear hug causing them to laugh. As they made their way toward the Expedition parked in front of the hangar, Matt asked about their twin sons.

"They're a lot better this morning. Thank goodness. One baby with a cold is bad enough. Two of them that act like their dad when he's sick is too much!" She laughed as he swatted at her.

"Mike and Vinny just need some guy time with their dad, that's all." He slid into the passenger seat and they began the drive to the ranch.

After getting a big hug from Madre Rosa, the cowboy quietly snuck up the stairs to the nursery to check on his sons and met nanny Sheila Wentworth who was just exiting the room. "How're they doing?"

"No more fever. They sure do get cranky - kinda like somebody else I know." The nurse-turned-nanny gave the man a big smile and watched as he entered the room. Both boys were sleeping soundly and he stood between the two cribs, taking them by the hand and watching them sleep for a minute before turning toward the door. In a whisper he spoke to the half Husky/half Blue Heeler that sat before him holding out her right paw. "How ya doin', Tilly?" Kneeling down he shook with the dog and then spent a minute petting on her. "Keep a good eye on them for me." She wagged her tail and went to lay down between the cribs.

Out in the hallway he heard the sound of Catey as she plead her case for not taking a nap. The nanny was having none of it and the almost three year old finally settled for having her dad tuck her in with the promise of a horseback ride later that day.

Matt came back downstairs, pulled a cold drink from the refrigerator and walked out onto the back porch, settling down beside his wife on one of the swings. "I swear I think they've shot up a foot since the last time I was here."

"Wouldn't be exaggerating would you?" CJ leaned her head over on his shoulder.

"Not by much." He looked out across the ranch. In the distance he could see part of the herd that was fast becoming a good money maker. The Houstons had begun the task of re-establishing the cattle business on the ranch while she was pregnant with Catey, the end plan being that when the time came for retirement, the pair would settle back where they had begun. In addition, CJ was now the proud owner of the adjoining property that at one time had belonged to her uncle Errol Parsons. Rockin' PH Quarter Horses was her childhood dream come true. Over the last year there had been extensive renovations on the old farm house as well the expansion of the barn. An indoor arena would soon be under construction and would hopefully be operational in a few months.

The pair enjoyed a companionable silence until a truck pulled out from one of the pastures and parked behind the house. Ranch foreman Marty Hoffmann got out along with the newest employee of the ranch, Clint Murphy who had begun work for the Houstons two months previously. "Good Lord, is it that time already?" Hoffmann winked at his boss's wife. "Guess we knew it was too good to last forever, huh CJ?"

"I missed you, too, Marty." Matt chuckled as the two men came up the steps and had a seat on the swing opposite him. "So how are you faring, Clint?"

"Pretty good."

"How long are you here for this time?" Hoffmann removed his hat and wiped the sweat away with a bandana.

"For a while I hope." The group chatted for a few minutes about the workings of the ranch before Marty and Clint went to town to pick up a load of supplies.

Later that evening after the kids were off to bed the couple was on the back porch once again on the swing. "So I take it there were no problems?" She was sitting cross-legged with Matt's head in her lap.

"Well…" He yawned. "Other than getting battered and bruised hauling fire hoses - no. One thing about it: my time in Quantico got me in shape for it." There was another pause as he yawned again. "I'm sure Don MacLemore is glad I finally got it finished. Sure felt bad having to put it off so many times."

"I think he's just glad to have you onboard, hon." Quiet took over as she looked out at the stars that shone brightly and in a few minutes she could tell that he had fallen asleep. Madre Rosa came out onto the porch and the women talked quietly as he began to lightly snore.

"He hasn't been sleeping well, has he?" The older woman could just see him in the light from the stars.

CJ didn't reply right away. "He keeps telling me that he is...but I'm not sure I believe him."

"There hasn't been anyone shooting at him again - has there?" She knew that he didn't always let her know everything that happened to him in an effort to keep her from worrying so much.

"No, not since they caught Kathy's kidnapper." Three months previously the private investigator had come under fire twice within two days. The identity of the first shooter had never been found and no trace had been found of the second shooter who had eliminated the first with a sniper shot from the rim of a canyon. Matt had received a crease to the left side of his forehead and no one was sure which man was the intended target.

Silence took over again until the housekeeper decided to call it a night and turn in. CJ stayed on the swing, unwilling to wake her husband, and fell asleep herself. It wasn't until he woke her at four in the morning that they moved inside and went to their room, stopping on the way to check on the children.

Matt awoke at 9:00 the next morning, the faint sound of the children's laughter drifting through the house a welcome sound. He lay there for a few minutes thinking how nice it was to be back with his family after so much time spent apart for the last few months. Oh, there had been weekend visits, but he had missed so much of the day-to-day moments that it left him feeling like a bad father. Things were still up in the air as far as the adoption process with Brian because of the way that the family traveled between Texas and California. That was the reason that he had been alone in Los Angeles during his final fire investigation class. CJ had remained in Texas in an effort to show stability.

He got out of the bed and hit the shower before getting dressed and finding his way downstairs where he was attacked by Catey and her brothers. "Y'all let me get a cup of coffee and then we'll play, alright?" After a couple of minutes they finally turned him loose and he poured himself a cup and leaned against the kitchen counter sipping on it as the housekeeper came through with a basket of laundry. "Mornin'."

"Good morning. You seemed to sleep well on the swing last night." She noticed that he seemed much more rested than the day before.

"Good ole Texas air." He gave her a smile and watched as she nodded and then proceeded upstairs with the basket. After finishing the cup he went into the den where the kids and CJ were playing in the floor, joining them and being immediately pinned to the carpet by the kids while his wife sat and laughed, taking pictures of the group at play.

Later on after lunch he put the kids down for their naps and had just made it out to the porch when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID: Francine Martinez. "Good afternoon."

"Houston, I really hate to bother you - have you finished your class?" The Sheriff of Harris County was en route to a crime scene just west of downtown Houston.

"Sure did. Just got back in town yesterday."

"Would you meet me in River Oaks?"

"Yes ma'am. What's the address?" He headed back into the kitchen for a pen and paper, meeting CJ and Madre Rosa as he grabbed a pad off of the kitchen counter and began jotting down the information. The two women exchanged a look and CJ went upstairs. "I'll be there ASAP." He disconnected the call and started to the hallway where he was met by his wife who was carrying his holster and badge. "Thanks, Babe." He clipped the badge on his belt and took the holster from her. Looking up at her as he fastened the clip on his right leg, he apologized.

"You've got a job to do, hon. Just be careful - okay?" She gave him a kiss and received one back that was much more involved.

"Yes ma'am. Love you."

"Love you, too, Cowboy. Tell her I said hello."

"I will. Call you when I know something." He went out the door and down the steps to the Sheriff's Department SUV that had been assigned to him. Both women watched as he backed up and went down the driveway.

"Well, his time off didn't last very long." Madre Rosa turned back toward the laundry room.

CJ started back toward the study. "It never does."


	2. Chapter 2

**02 - Inwood Drive**

Matt hit the siren as he turned onto Crosby Huffman Road and began the thirty mile trip to the west side of town. After traveling south for a few minutes, he hit highway 90 just outside of Barrett.

Inwood Drive was located in the River Oaks community, the wealthiest and most expensive area in Texas and one of the top ten in the nation. Although he knew it happened everywhere, he was nonetheless surprised to get the call to the area that enjoyed such a low crime rate. It had been created back in the 1920's by the Hogg brothers, William and Michael. The planned community featured a country club with a world class golf course and was host to a prestigious tennis tournament.

Driving along he sighed; he had hoped to have a few uninterrupted days with the family. Feelings of guilt over being gone so much had been eating at him all during his time in Quantico and later during his final class. The best he could hope was that the case would be wrapped up quickly and the family would get some time together.

Turning his thoughts back to his destination, he knew that River Oaks fell within the Central Patrol Division of the Houston Police Department. _Guess they asked Martinez for help._ He pulled into the drive of the home after being waved through by a patrolman at the gate. Hidden from view by the trees that lined the street, the sprawling home was surrounded by lush lawns, a formal English garden on the west side of the property, and a pond complete with island on the east side. A koi pond was immediately in front of the house, visible from the inside by a section of bay windows that overlooked it.

As he slid out of the SUV and went toward the walkway, he saw Martinez talking to Pablo Guzman, chief of the Houston Police Department. It was definitely a high-profile case for him to have been called to the scene.

Martinez caught sight of him. "Houston, glad you could make it. Chief Guzman, this is Matt Houston."

"I know exactly who he is." The Chief extended his hand and the two men shook.

"Nice to meet you."

"I asked Francine to help us out since she has already dealt with a case with similar circumstances lately."

Houston turned his attention back to Martinez, a questioning look on his face. She patted him on the shoulder. "I'll fill you in on the other case when we get done here." Looking back to the chief she explained that Matt had been gone for a few months and most likely hadn't heard about the case.

"Well, I'm glad you're here now. Let's go out back and the detective assigned to it can brief you." He turned and led the way around the posh home and out onto a patio. A large rectangular swimming pool was on the left side of the patio flanked by the north wing of the home. The group walked on past it and after going around the corner of the house, another smaller English garden came into view. Passing a small fountain in the center of the garden, Matt could see an alcove at the end of the pathway. Several people were gathered around it and he recognized one of them immediately.

Detective Michael Littlebear turned as he heard the others approaching and a smile spread across his face when he saw the PI. "Houston, how are you?" The two shook hands.

"Good. How about you?"

"I'd be a lot better if folks quit killing each other." He nodded in the direction of the body that was slumped over on the bench of the alcove. "Meet Mrs. Lydia Lee Brooks Bell. Looks like she was strangled and…" He gestured for the deputy to come closer to the body. "She's had her heart cut out."

Matt stepped closer, squatting down to get a better look at the woman. "Who found her?"

"The gardener. Poor guy had to go to the hospital. Think he might have had a heart attack."

Houston stood and pulled a nitrile glove from his back pocket and slipped it on. The crime scene techs had already photographed the scene, so he reached down for her right arm that was dangling off of the bench, moving it slightly. "Probably happened sometime late last night or early this morning." He stood back up. "When did the gardener find her?"

"A little before noon."

Matt looked around the alcove. Made from white marble, it featured columns on either side along with statues of what the PI thought might have been Zeus. "What about the husband?"

"Morgan Atwood Bell. He was in Dallas. The local PD notified him."

Both men began walking carefully around the area, talking about the scene, leaving the Chief and Sheriff standing in front of the alcove. "Do you get the feeling that you're not needed?" Guzman shook his head and grinned at Martinez.

"It seems they already know each other." The Sheriff was pleased that Matt had been in town and agreed to take a look at the scene.

The Chief looked at his watch. "Guess I better get back to the office. I've got a meeting in thirty minutes with the mayor - and now he's going to be raking me over the coals about this."

"No doubt."

Guzman left and Martinez joined the two detectives who had gone around to the west side of the alcove. They were examining a fence that separated the estate from the country club golf course. A sprinkling of trees lined the fence and they walked along carefully studying both the ground and the fence for any signs. It wasn't until they reached the east side of the alcove that they found two footprints and a smear of blood on the fence. Both men dropped down to take a closer look. Littlebear called for one of the techs to come process the area. "Size twelve, maybe?" He gave Matt a look and received an affirmative nod.

"Looks to be." Both men stood and scoured the ground, tracking around to the front of the structure without any other prints sighted. "Up and over?" The deputy nodded in the direction of the golf course.

"Sounds like a plan. We can go talk to the manager when we get done. Maybe they have some video we can take a look at."

"That would be helpful - I hope." The two went back to the fence near the prints and were over it in short order.

"Houston…" Martinez approached the fence. "Call me when you get done here and I'll give you the information on the other scene."

"Yes, ma'am." He and Michael went back to examining the area. "Looks like a golf cart maybe - see the tracks there?"

"Yup." They both looked for more tracks but didn't find anymore. "Just a bare spot in the turf. Otherwise we wouldn't have that track."

"Uh huh." After scouring the area, the two climbed back over the fence leaving the tech to take an impression of the track. "The Coroner is here." They ambled over and watched as the assistant began his work. When the body was moved slightly everyone grew silent.

The assistant shook his head. "I knew this was gonna be a bad day when I got out of bed. Just like the other one - her heart is gone."

Moving closer, the detectives knelt down to get a better view. Matt motioned to the wound. "What do you think: did they know what they were doing or what?"

"Well…" He stood up. "They knew enough basic anatomy to know where it was, but it isn't a professional looking job if that's what you mean. Rough cuts."

Littlebear stood back up. "Thanks." Both detectives turned and started back toward the drive. "Guess it's time to go to the country club. Not exactly dressed for cocktails." Matt smirked.

"So how is CJ doing?"

"Great. Busy as hell." He brought out his phone and showed a picture taken the day before of CJ, Catey, the twins, and Brian.

"Whoa now - where did those boys come from?"

"Same place Catey came from except for the big one…" Matt chuckled.

"Y'all move fast. Who is the teenager?" He listened as the man explained both about Brian and Tomás who was back in California at school . "So five kids...wow."

They reached the driveway and loaded up, driving the half mile to the River Oaks Country Club. The guard at the entrance wasn't pleased in the least to have two cops wanting to enter the property and called the manager's office. After a few minutes of conversation he directed the pair to park in the west parking area.

At the front entrance they were met by the assistant manager and ushered into the office as quickly as possible. "Gentlemen…" A man of about fifty with salt and pepper hair came around the desk. "Maxwell Sanders. Please have a seat. Can we get you a drink?"

"No, thanks." Littlebear took a seat in one of the offered chairs.

"Mr. Chumley said you needed to talk to me about a murder?" He settled back into the leather office chair and leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.

"Mrs. Lydia Lee Brooks Bell was found this morning murdered in the alcove of her back garden. We found some tracks leading from the golf course and would like to see any surveillance video that you may have and ask who,if anyone, would have been on the property between midnight and 7:00AM."

"Mrs. Bell? No, you can't be serious!"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, my goodness. She's such a wonderful lady. I can't imagine why anyone would hurt her."

"We'd like to take a look at any security footage that you may have from overnight." Matt propped his left leg on his right knee.

"Of course. Let me call Mr. Sullivan. He's our head of security." He picked up the phone and dialed an extension, explained what was needed, and hung up. "If you gentlemen will follow me I'll take you to the security office." They went out of a side door and down a back hallway to an office four doors down. Inside was an array of monitors showing different areas of the club, including four that covered the golf course. One of the security officers was pulling together the videos from the night before and in just a few minutes they were given a disc and escorted back out of the club and straight to their vehicles.

"Nothing like getting the bum's rush, huh?" Matt rolled down his window and spoke to the cop.

"Nope."

"Let's go to HCSO and look at this. We can make you a copy."

"Works for me." Littlebear rolled up his window and followed the deputy to Baker Street. Matt entered the area where he shared a cubicle with fellow detective and long time friend Chuck Wylie, just as he hung up the phone.

"How's it goin', Chuck?" Matt plopped down in the little-used chair behind his desk and popped the disc into the computer.

"Hey, what're you doing here? I thought you were learning how to climb a ladder with a fire hose or some such."

"All done. Graduated." Matt turned his attention back to the computer as Littlebear pulled a chair around behind the desk. "How's Lisa and the younguns?"

"Fine. How's it going, Littlebear?"

"Not so good. We had another body with the heart cut out."

The smile left Wylie's face. "You're kidding. Where?"

"River Oaks."

"Holy cow…" He stood as Matt waved him over to look at the video. As he scrolled through the security footage he pointed out the fence that ran along the back of the golf course. "Our victim lived back over this way. Unfortunately…" He checked other views of the footage. "...the cameras don't cover the area." Blowing out a breath he shook his head. "I was sure hoping this would give us what we needed." The three continued watching.

"Whoa...go back a little." Michael leaned forward. "Right there...that golf cart. Zoom in on it."

Matt did as he was asked and ran the images back a few seconds. "Yep. There's definite movement there." He played with the video. "But you can't see who was in it. But…" He zoomed in a little more. "There's a number on it: 65."

"I'll tell the techs to go over it." Littlebear pulled out his phone and made the call.

"The Boss Lady tells me that there's been another case like this?" Houston looked to his friend.

"Uh huh. About three weeks back. De la Cruz worked it. He's about ready to pull his hair out over it as a matter of fact."

"Good thing I've got plenty of hair then. She wants me to take a look at it."


	3. Chapter 3

**03 - Lakeshore Drive**

Matt got out of the Suburban and stretched, popping his back before following Chuck and Michael up the stairs of the home on Lakeshore Drive. Located in Humble just west of Atascocita, it was situated on the north side of the San Jacinto River. Chuck sliced through the seal on the door and entered the living room, then proceeded back through the house to the master bedroom and into the bath. This scene was much bloodier than River Oaks. Matt surveyed the room. "Looks like somebody put up a hell of a fight."

"That's fitting - seeing as how our victim was a former Golden Gloves champ." Chuck pointed to the spider-webbed mirror where it was plain to see that someone's head had caused the damage: there were still strands of hair stuck to the shards of glass. Blood was also in the sink below the mirror, dried now to a nasty brown color. A towel rack had been dislodged from the wall and even the top of the commode tank had been wrenched off . There were holes in the drywall in various places, the glass shower door had been shattered and was hanging off of its hinges, and the tub had a good deal of blood in it.

"So this is where the victim was found?" Houston walked over to the tub and squatted down for a better look.

"Yup. Marvin Jerome Stone, age 36. Worked at a health food store down on FM-1960, married, two kids ages 7 and 9. Wife Zoe is a medical assistant."

"Who found him?" Matt stood back up and looked around the room some more.

"The wife."

There were smeared footprints in the floor, some from bare feet and others from someone wearing shoes. He dropped back down and looked at the shoeprints. "About a size twelve - again." He exchanged a look with Littlebear who nodded.

"Looks like it might be the same shoe even." The cop leaned over and got a good look at the print.

"So were there any signs of forced entry? The front door looked okay." Matt stood back up and followed Chuck through the house to the living room.

"There's an elevator here." Wylie opened a door that was just to the right of the front door that the three had used to enter. "This door was jammed open and so was the one under the house." He waited as Littlebear and Houston took a look at where a tool had been used to wedge the lock open, then opened the gate and stepped on board the elevator. The other two men stepped into the car and Wylie closed the gate and pushed the button for the lower level. Once there he opened the gate and then the door. "Pry marks again."

Matt walked toward the back of the property where a fireplace was located on the western corner, then walked down to the dock followed by Chuck and Michael. He didn't see anything of interest and all three made their way back up to the house.

"You said they dusted for prints - did they get any hits?"

"Not a one."

Littlebear spoke up. "What about DNA; was all the blood in the bathroom the victim's?"

"No. There was another profile found there. Like I said - the victim was a former amateur boxing champ."

Matt walked back to the door to the elevator and looked around once again. "What about the hair? Was it the victim's?"

"Yup."

"What did the wife have to say?"

"Not much other than she had no idea who would have done that. We don't have any records on either of them - not so much as a speeding ticket. No domestic calls, _nada_."

Houston's phone rang and he looked at the caller ID, a serious expression crossing his face. "Excuse me." Walking away from the other two he answered. "How's it going, George?"

"Slow. Real damn slow." George McSwain, the sixty three year old private investigator who Matt had hired to help him figure out who had taken a shot at him three months earlier, leaned back in the chair behind his desk and pulled a cigarette out of the pack, tapping it on the desktop. "Talked to CJ and she said you were back in town."

"I am. Currently at a crime scene."

"Want me to call you back later?"

"No, that's fine." Matt walked back down toward the dock.

"Well, I think I've finally convinced my contact that works for Lynch to help us out." He noticed that the younger man was quiet. "You're wondering how much we can trust her."

"I am."

"I feel pretty good about it. Peggy has overheard a few things since I first contacted her three months ago and it's flat got her scared."

"Such as?"

"She's heard about three different murders."

"You're kiddin' me?" He turned to look up to where the other two detectives were talking.

"Nope. I told her that we would be willing to help her out monetarily after Lynch gets locked up."

"You did, huh?" Matt chuckled.

"I did."

"That's fine. So I take it you're ready for some critters?"

"Yeah, but you're going to have to teach me how to use the damn things. It's all I can do to make out invoices and check my email." He lit up the cigarette and took a long drag as the younger man laughed.

"I'd be happy to do it." Checking his watch and then looking back up at the two men who were now watching him, he started back up toward the patio. "How long are you going to be at the office?"

"What time will you be here?"

"About two hours - maybe sooner if I can." He was back up on the patio.

"Works for me. Don't have any women knockin' down my door." Both men laughed.

"Alright. I'll call you. And thanks a lot, bud."

"No problem."

Houston walked back over to the pair. "Sorry about that."

"Does CJ know you've got a girlfriend?" Chuck knew better but wanted to give his friend a hard time.

"No, and you and I both know that's something she'll never have to worry about."

"Better not. I'd hate to have to kick your butt." He started back toward the stairs. "That's about it for the fifty cent tour. You can access the file on the computer."

"Alright, I appreciate it." Matt turned to Littlebear. "So what do you think?"

"I think the chief was right - how many folks go around cutting out hearts?"

"Probably more than either one of us want to know. But I'm willing to bet that the same guy did both of these." Once again his phone rang. "Yes ma'am?" The voice of Francine Martinez came across the line.

"I thought you were going to call me to go over the other homicide?"

"Well, I was going to, but Chuck brought Littlebear and me out to the scene and filled us in."

"Ah hah! So I've been upstaged." She turned and looked out over Buffalo Bayou at the skyline of the city. "Well, what do you think?"

"Michael and I think it's the same nut. Like he said, how many folks go around cutting out hearts?"

"Okay. Just keep me in the loop. And thanks again for helping out."

"Yes ma'am." He disconnected the call just as Littlebear's phone began ringing and Chuck came back down the stairs after locking up the home and putting another seal on the door.

Michael put his phone back in his pocket. "The husband just got back in town. He's at the precinct."

"Guess we better go have a chat then." All three men went back to their vehicles and began the trip back into town, Matt following Littlebear to the Central Precinct while Chuck went back to the Sheriff's Office on Baker Street.

The two detectives made a stop by the coffee machine and then went up to the third floor interrogation room where Morgan Bell was seated at a table, a horrified expression on his face, until he realized that the two men had entered. Immediately he jumped to his feet. "Mr. Bell, I'm Detective Littlebear. This is Detective Houston. Please have a seat." They sat down across from him.

"Have you found out anything yet?" Bell was dressed in a dark blue suit, his tie loosened and his eyes red-rimmed.

"No sir, not just yet. We're working on it but we need your help. Do you know if your wife was having problems with anyone?"

"No, not Lydia. She got along with everyone." His chin began to tremble and he took in a shuddering breath. "I just can't believe...are you sure it's really her?"

"Yes, sir. Your gardener was the one who found her." Littlebear watched as the man seemed to visibly crumple in front of them, as if someone had just let the air out of him.

"What am I going to do?" He burst into tears and the two men exchanged a look, both reasonably sure that he had nothing to do with his wife's death.

"Mr. Bell, have y'all had any unwanted visitors or phone calls?" Matt genuinely felt bad for the man and was trying to be as gentle with him as possible, but they needed as much information as they could get from him as fast as possible.

"No, not at...well, wait a minute." He blew his nose on a handkerchief and sat up a little straighter. "There was someone who kept calling about a week ago. Lydia got put out with him. He kept babbling something about she owed him. I don't know what he possibly thought that she could owe."

The two detectives exchanged a look and Matt spoke up. "Did he call the house or her cell phone?"

"The house."

Matt stood up and began pacing. "Sir, did your wife know a man by the name of Marvin Jerome Stone?"

"No...I don't think so. Do you think he did it?"

"No, sir. He, uh...he was killed the same way as your wife about three weeks ago."

After several minutes further questioning both men gave him their card and watched as he slowly walked to the elevator with an officer who would take him to a hotel for the night - the home was still considered a crime scene.

Littlebear led the way back to his desk and began delving into the phone calls made and received at the Bell home. The pair zeroed in on calls from the previous week and began checking the numbers. "Mmm, bet this is it here…" Michael pointed to a number on the screen and then ran a check on it. "Damn."

"Burner." Matt plopped down into an empty chair. "Alright, run the calls from Stone's house." At the same time they both saw the number. "So it looks like we've definitely got the same killer. Now the big question is: what do Lydia Bell and Marvin Stone have in common?"

Littlebear shook his head. "Different neighborhoods, one rich, one middle class. Bell was in the country club set…" Both were quiet. "She was 41, he was 36. Doubt if they went to school together."

"There's gotta be some kind of connection...unless we've just got some nut who randomly kills folks."


	4. Chapter 4

**04 - George McSwain's Office**

About 5:30 Matt parked on the street in front of McSwain's office on Pease Street and went inside. The entire office had a haze of cigarette smoke. "George?"

"C'mon back." McSwain had been trying in vain to get an invoice filled out on his computer but it was frozen and no amount of key pushing was helping the matter. "Boy, you got here just in time. See if you can do something with this damn thing." He heaved himself up out of the chair and stood to the side as the younger man came around the desk.

"Damn, George. This thing is at least…" He stopped and shook his head. "We're going to get you fixed up. This ain't gonna fly with the critters, bud. Come on." Leading the way back out of the office, he stood waiting as the private investigator cursed the door lock and then met him on the sidewalk.

"What do you mean it won't work with the critters? It's a computer."

"Get in." He unlocked the door for the older man and went around to the driver's side. "Bud, that thing is pretty much a dinosaur."

"Well, it works...most of the time." Looking over at the younger man he caught the smile and chuckle. "Hell, Yvette was the one that handled all the paperwork."

"We're gonna get you fixed up. Don't worry."

"I don't know if I can use another computer."

"Believe it or not you'll probably have an easier time with a new one." The two chatted until Matt pulled into the parking lot of an electronics store. In less than thirty minutes they were walking out with not just one but two computers: a desktop and a laptop, plus a printer. An hour after that Matt got up out of the desk chair in George's office and told him to have a seat. In just a few minutes the older man was laughing and enjoying himself.

"Now, let's get you set up for the critters." Matt took back control of the computer and installed the BugBytes program and showed the old timer how it worked.

"Well, now that's just slicker than snot on a doorknob!"

"Yeah, well let's get the laptop set up, too." It wasn't long before it was done.

"I think we've earned a beer. How about it?"

"I appreciate it, but I'll have to pass. I'm driving a county vehicle."

"Oh, yeah. Still can't get used to that badge." George shook his head. "I take it you haven't had any more problems with getting shot at?"

"No…" Matt pulled a cigar out of his shirt pocket, offering one to the older man who accepted. With it lit, he took a long draw. "But…" He paused, looking across the desk at his friend.

"You've still got the feeling that somebody has eyes on you." He watched as Houston nodded. "I noticed the way you were lookin' around while we were out. Got that head on a swivel, doncha boy?"

"My coaches always said that was the best policy...so did my Army instructors." He puffed on the cigar quietly. "I guess some folks would think I'm being paranoid."

"And they would be idiots. How many times do you reckon most people get shot at in their lifetime?" He saw a smile come across the younger man's features. "You've been shot at God knows how many times - and I'm not just talking about when you were in the service."

Matt's phone rang. "Hey, Lil Mama...Uh huh, I'm at George's place." There was a pause. "I'll ask him. George, you want to have supper with us tonight?"

"Well, I don't know…" The PI grinned. "Hell yeah. I'd be stupid not to."

"Didja hear that?" He laughed. "Yes, ma'am. We'll be along in a little bit. Love you, too." Disconnecting the call, he looked back at George, his expression turning serious once again. "I want you to remember something: if you decide you want to drop this job at any point just let me know. I wouldn't blame you a bit."

"Not happening. Now - what's for supper?"


	5. Chapter 5

**05 - Bad Dreams**

After some of Madre Rosa's good home cooking and some time spent working with Brian on passing the football, Matt and CJ put the kids to bed for the night and went back down to the den to watch TV. Joined by Rosa, Sheila, and Marty, they were watching an old western. Within a half hour Matt was snoozing in the recliner. An hour later he scared the daylights out of everyone when he suddenly sat straight up and screamed, his eyes wide open.

"Hon, what on Earth? Are you okay?" CJ was right by his side in a matter of seconds. "Matt?" It took a minute for him to realize where he was, his breathing ragged.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm okay." He got up out of the chair and headed for the back porch, CJ right on his heels while the others sat in shock.

"What was it?" She put a hand on his back, feeling as his heart raced. He shook his head. "I know you saw something…" There was no reply. "Look at me." Slowly, Matt turned to face her. "Tell me."

" I'm not sure. It…" Shaking his head again the detective tightly closed his eyes. "It's the same. Just like when I was in Quantico."

"But…"

"I don't know! It isn't clear." Leaning against the railing he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and looked up into sky at the stars that hovered overhead.

"I thought it wasn't happening any more…"

Matt's lack of response told her that wasn't the case. "Maybe...do you need to talk to someone?"

"Sure. I'll just walk in, plop down on their couch and tell 'em what? That I've been having bad dreams but can't make out the face of the boogeyman? I'm not three, CJ." She stayed silent and he pulled her into his arms. "Sorry."

"Maybe we could talk to Carol? She might be able to give you something to help you sleep."

"And when I get called out to a scene in the middle of the night? Nuh uh."

They heard footsteps coming through the kitchen and Marty stepped outside. "Guess I'll call it a night. Thanks for supper."

"Anytime, bud."

CJ gave the foreman a smile. "Goodnight." Waiting until he was out of earshot she spoke quietly to her husband. "If this doesn't improve soon you _will_ be talking to someone."

"Not unless you're trying to get me locked away somewhere."

"Hon, nobod-..."

"You and I both know that what happens with me sometimes isn't something that most folks put stock in."

"But…"

"No." He drew in a deep breath of the night air and slowly exhaled.

"Okay, then - let's you and I talk about it." She saw he was about to shake his head. "Hear me out. Let's approach it like a case. Sit down." Nudging him toward the swing, she had a seat next to him. "Now, close your eyes and tell me what you _do_ remember."

He did as she asked. "There's dirt and sand. Like in the desert. I remember it blowing in the wind. And there are tracks that I'm following."

"Human or animal?"

"It's horse tracks. And then there are boot tracks." He drew in another deep breath and tried to relax. "I hear a noise - a scream. And then there's a flash of light and…" Opening his eyes, Matt shook his head. "That's when I wake up."

"And you were able to tell me more about it just then than you have been." She watched the surprise come across his face. "Look…" CJ reached for his left hand. "I know you don't want to tell me anything that will upset me. But seeing you worried like you have been and how these dreams affect you upsets me anyway. If you let me try to help you it's better for both of us. Okay?" Slowly, he nodded. "We're partners after all."

"Yeah." His voice was very quiet. "I'm sorry, Babe. It's just…"

"Hon?"

"Huh?"

"Shut up and kiss me."


	6. Chapter 6

**06 - Sunset Boulevard**

The heat shimmered up off of the desert floor, the waves seeming to be emanating straight from hell. He removed the white straw hat and wiped his brow, removed a canteen from the saddle horn and took a quick sip from it, then poured some into his hand for Jasper. The horse drank appreciatively and after refilling his hand three more times, Matt put the top back on the container and replaced it on the saddle. There was a strange noise….

"Hon, your phone's ringing. Matt?"

He jerked awake to find himself in the bedroom of the Texas ranch fumbling on the nightstand for his cell phone. "Houston."

"It's Francine. Sorry to wake you, but we've got another one." The sheriff was moving along through the traffic on I-69 headed south, grateful for the fact that there weren't a tremendous amount of cars on the road at 3:30 in the morning.

"Uh…" Matt shook his head, trying to clear out the dream. "Yeah, okay. Where?" He sat up on the side of the bed and fumbled with the pen and notepad, copying down the address. "Be there ASAP. Has Littlebear been notified?"

"He'll meet us there."

"Okay." He disconnected the call and shook his head once again.

"Hon, are you alright?"

"Yeah, just…" He got up and made his way over to the chest for some clothes. Ordinarily he would have had his clothes laid out and ready to go, but when he and CJ had turned in clothes were the last thing on their minds. "Would you hit the record app on my phone?" He pulled socks out of the drawer and began dressing.

"Go ahead." She listened as he began describing what he had been dreaming before the phone rang, cutting off the recording when he was done. "So these were the same tracks you've been following in your dreams?"

"Yeah, I think so." He fastened the buckle on his belt and gave her a slight smile. "At least I didn't scream my head off this time."

"So you've got another murder?" CJ slid over and rubbed his back as he sat down to put his boots on.

"Yeah, she said Littlebear would meet us there."

"Be careful, baby."

"Yes, ma'am." He turned and gave her a kiss, stroking her face. "Love you."

"Love you." The pair shared another kiss before he reached for the HCSO ball cap on the dresser and put on his holster and badge, leaving the room and going through the quiet house.

Outside he started up the department SUV and went down the driveway and through the gates, hitting the lights and siren when he got about half a mile away from the ranch headed south on Crosby Huffman Road. "Could sure do with some coffee." A chuckle escaped him as he realized he was once again talking to himself.

The normally forty minute drive to the Southampton community was cut in half thanks to the emergency equipment and he pulled to a stop a few houses down from the home in the 2200 block of Sunset Boulevard, located just a few blocks north of Rice University. Yawning as he walked up the sidewalk and went under the crime scene tape, he noticed the eight foot high black wrought iron fence that stretched across the front of the property. A deputy nodded and stepped aside so that he could go through the front gate and up the sidewalk of the home of modern construction, pulling on a pair of nitrile gloves as he stepped through the front door, the sound of crying meeting his ears.

Martinez looked up to see him and motioned him toward the back of the house with a pained expression on her face. "Our victim is Paul Walter Bohlmann, age 36. His two daughters woke up when they heard noises and found him in the kitchen."

Matt could tell from the sound of the crying that the girls were fairly young. "How old are they?"

"Four and seven."

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

"Look, you're really good with kids - would you mind? Littlebear is checking out the kitchen." She motioned to the den where the two girls were huddled in each other's arms on the couch, each wearing a look of shock with tears streaming down their faces. He nodded, removing the gloves and stuffing them into his back pocket before entering the room.

"Hey…" He knelt down in front of the two girls as a patrolman who had been keeping an eye on them stepped aside. The girls looked up at him, drawing in shuddering breaths. "My name's Matt. What's yours?"

"Josey." The eldest spoke while the younger one just stared at him. "This is Leah."

He held out his hand and shook with both girls who shivered. "Nice to meet you. How about we get this blanket over here and cover y'all up, okay?" Reaching to the back of the couch he pulled down a colorful afghan that resembled a box of brightly colored crayons and wrapped it around the pair. " So y'all live here with your dad?"

"No. Just on weekends. He and Mama are divorced."

"Uh huh. Do you know your mama's phone number?" The answer was a nod from Josey before she rattled it off. Matt looked to Francine who nodded as she began dialing, stepping out of the room to make the call.

"That's real good. Now, Miss Francine told me y'all were in bed and you heard a noise, is that right?" Josey nodded again as her sister stared straight ahead, motionless.

"I heard Daddy yelling at somebody and then there was a loud bump like something got knocked over. And he screamed…" She stopped talking as Leah began howling, her shaking becoming violent.

"Come here, darlin'." He took the four year old into his arms, sitting down next to her sister who also started sobbing again. "Let's get y'all outside."

Leah shook her head no and began yelling, "Charlie! Charlie!"

"Who's Charlie, honey?"

Josey spoke up. "Her teddy bear. He's upstairs."

"I'll get it." Francine went toward the stairs as Matt carried both girls outside and over to an ambulance that was on scene.

As he set them down on the gurney, the younger one screamed and gripped his neck more tightly, refusing to let go. "Okay, you can sit on my lap. Easy now." He gently rocked her as one of the EMTs began examining Josey, then attempted to check out Leah who pulled away. "Hey, this lady just wants to make sure that you're okay. She's not gonna hurt you. Is she, Josey?"

"She's nice. It's okay." The elder of the two patted her sister on the back. Finally the little girl allowed her to check her vitals.

After being assured that both children were okay, just badly scared, Matt looked up to see Martinez standing at the door with the teddy bear. "Look who Miss Francine found." The sheriff smiled as she handed the stuffed animal to Leah.

"I talked to your mom. She's going to meet us at my office, okay? You can ride with me." Josey slid off the gurney and took the hand offered by the sheriff while Matt stood and began following her. As he tried to put the girl on the seat of Martinez's SUV she once again began screaming and squeezing his neck.

"I'll get one of the deputies to bring your ride." Francine leaned out, calling to one of the officers who nodded.

Sliding into the back, Matt finally convinced Leah to let him fasten the seatbelt around her. As he covered her once more with the afghan he thought of Catey Rose who was at that moment snuggled safe and sound in her bed at the ranch. "Do you like horses?" Leah nodded. "Well, looky here…" Removing the phone from his pocket, he pulled up pictures of Catey with Cricket and Jasper as well as their colt Buck. He pointed to each one and told her their names, noticing as he did that she began to calm, so he kept talking about them all the way back to Baker Street. While he carried Leah inside and up to Martinez's office, she was tending to Josey.

"How about some hot chocolate? Does that sound good?" The girls agreed and she went to get it while Matt got the pair settled on the couch. In just a minute she returned with the drinks and sat in a chair that she pulled closer to the group. It was then that a deputy knocked on the door and informed them that the mother was there.

Susanne Gunnarsson rushed into the office, sweeping both girls up into her arms. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, but Daddy…" Josey began crying again as did Leah.

"It'll be okay…" Gunnarsson looked over the tops of her daughters' heads. "What happened?"

"We're not totally sure. We were about to ask your daughters if…" Francine began.

"No." She protectively squeezed the girls closer to her.

"We're not sure how much they may have seen or heard." The sheriff looked between Matt and the girls' mother.

"Ma'am, can I talk to you privately for a minute?" He stood and motioned her toward the desk that sat across the room. She put Leah down on the couch and Martinez handed her the cup of cocoa again. "Right now is the calmest your girls have been. We need to know…"

"No. I'm not going to put them through that."

He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "You may not believe it, but that may be exactly what they need - to tell what they know. Sometimes talking about something can-"

"No." She turned away from him and went to the girls. "Come on. We're going home." Taking both by the hand she started for the door, but stopped when Leah shook loose of her and ran back to Houston, gripping him around the knees until he knelt down.

"I saw a man."

The adults in the room froze.

"I did, too." Josey walked back to him.

Matt looked up at Gunnarsson. "Ma'am?"

"Okay." She had a seat on the couch as Matt sat down in the floor with the two girls.

"Can you tell me what he looked like?"

"Uh huh. He was big." Leah looked somberly into his eyes.

"Tall like me?"

"Kind of, but he was real skinny," Josey added, taking his hand. "He was white and he had black hair."

"That's real good."

Leah spoke again. "His shirt was blue."

"Okay, was he wearing jeans or something else?"

"Uh huh. And sneakers. They were blue, too."

"Had you ever seen him before? At your dad's house or some place else?"

"No." Josey shook her head.

"Y'all are doing a real good job. Can you tell us anything else about him?"

"He…" The older girl scrunched up her face a little in thought. "He smelled like pizza."

"Okay." Matt looked up at Martinez. "Think we can get a sketch artist in here?"

"We can." The sheriff pulled out her phone and made a call, watching as Leah climbed up in Houston's lap, putting her head against his chest.

Susanne Gunnarsson came to sit down with the three, tears slowly coursing down her cheeks. In a quiet voice she spoke to Matt. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think…"

"It's alright. You just wanted to protect them."

"Mama, we had to tell him so he can catch the man who hurt Daddy." Leah looked to her mother. "When will the doctor make him all better?"


	7. Chapter 7

**07 - The Next Morning**

Leaning back in the chair behind his desk Matt rubbed his eyes, pressing his palms down against them in an effort to drive back the headache that was making them feel as if they were about to pop out of his head. His mind drifted back to what had happened earlier in Martinez's office when Susanne Gunnarsson had tried to explain to her two young daughters that their daddy wasn't going to come back. Death was hard enough for adults to deal with and the thought that those two sweet, innocent little girls were now having to try to wrap their minds around such a thing cut him to the bone.

"Rough night?" Chuck's voice cut through his thoughts and he opened his eyes.

"Yeah." He told the father of five what had happened and saw the hurt that crossed his features. "The composite is going out about now."

"I can't imagine…" Wylie's voice trailed off.

Both men looked up as the boss appeared in their cubicle, dropping down into an empty chair with a deep sigh. "That has got to be one of the worst things I've ever experienced." She looked to Matt who nodded his agreement.

"I'm going to be hitting the local pizza delivery joints as soon as they open. Maybe they can identify the guy."

"I guess you would have a lot of experience with those." Chuck gave a lopsided grin.

"Been a while."

Martinez looked between the two. "Oh?"

"Went to school at Rice." Matt opened the top left hand drawer on the desk and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol, removing two before tossing it back into the drawer. "Anybody else want coffee?" The other two shook their heads and he went out of the cubicle headed for the break room.

"I had forgotten that - that he went to Rice."

"Yup. He and CJ both." Chuck sat down behind his desk. "I wonder how much different things would have been if he had gone pro instead of enlisting in the Army."

"He would have been a millionaire sooner - football players make some wicked money."

"So do baseball players." Chuck nodded and then began going through his email, finding what he needed from the lab for a case he was working on and then leaving just as Matt came back with coffee. "See ya later, pard." The pair high fived and Matt walked back into the cubicle and leaned against the desk quietly sipping.

"I don't know." He shook his head.

"Don't know what?"

"This guy may not even work for a pizza place."

"Right now it's the only thing we've got to go on. Unless of course the lab gives us a break." She looked at her watch. "Let's go get some breakfast and think it over."

The two exited the building and rode in Matt's vehicle up San Jacinto Street to a small diner that was a favorite of the department. Once seated inside, Martinez ordered a Belgian waffle while he ordered the large breakfast platter. Both silently sipped coffee as they watched the traffic flow by.

"So how are CJ and the kids?"

Matt gave a smile. "Doing good."

"And you said you finished your class; is that the last one?"

"It was. I graduated."

"Way to go." He nodded and the silence returned.

"After we get done here I'm going to do a thorough search into Bohlmann. There has got to be some connection with these three folks."

"We better hope like hell there is. If we've got some whack job out there just randomly cutting out people's hearts…" She left the rest unsaid as a series of flashes caught both their attention. "Who the hell is that?"

"Son of a bitch…" Matt's voice had taken on the low growl and one look at his face instantly made the sheriff uneasy.

"Who is she?"

"Tamara Placer."

"That bimbo that works for CNZ? God, she looks even worse in person than on TV." Two deputies who were seated at a nearby table came over to see what was going on. "Juarez, would you ask Billy if he wants that reporter on his property? If he doesn't…"

"Yes, ma'am." The deputy and his partner went to the counter and spoke with the owner, then outside where they informed the reporter and her cameraman that the owner didn't want them on the property and had asked for them to be escorted away. An evil look was given to Houston by Placer, but she and her co-worker retreated to their car and pulled out of the parking lot.

"So I take it there's a history there?" Martinez thanked the waitress as their orders arrived and watched in fascination as her breakfast companion doused his entire meal with hot sauce before diving into the food.

After taking a big bite, he nodded, then began explaining the various problems he had had with the reporter, even telling the sheriff about the incident in the elevator at the LAPD when Placer had sexually propositioned him.

"Oh, my God. No she didn't."

"Mmm huh." Matt continued to eat. After taking a drink of coffee he spoke again. "She isn't allowed at the ranch or the office. I've got a restraining order."

"But that doesn't hold true in Texas does it?" She knew immediately that he hadn't considered that.

"Would you be willing to be a witness for me if it comes to it?"

"You bet your bippy."

After the drive back to Baker Street, Martinez went up to her office and Matt settled in at the computer in his and began looking into the life of Paul Walter Bohlmann. _I'll be damned!_ He read quickly through the information. Bohlmann had been a transplant surgeon with one of the largest and most respected transplant centers in the US, which was located in Houston. He had been there for six years and according to everything Matt found, had been very good at his job. Although he and his wife had divorced a year previously, there didn't seem to be an unusual amount of animosity between the two: he had spoken to his ex and didn't get the feeling that she was involved in any way.

A sudden inspiration struck and he went to the _Houston Chronicle_ website and searched for Lydia Lee Brooks Bell and wasn't lacking for reading material. Skipping the obituary, he scanned on down the list and paused when he saw the mention of her in an article in the Society section.

 _The Houston Area Heart Alliance's 37th annual banquet was held September 26th at the River Oaks Country Club._

"Bingo…" He continued reading. Bell had been the chairman of the fundraising committee and as he continued on down through the article, various guests were named. "And there's the connection. It's gotta be." Dr. Paul Bohlmann had been honored for his contributions both monetarily and for his services. Matt printed out the article and made a beeline for the elevator, punching the button for the fourth floor where Martinez's office was. Without even looking up from the article he went toward her door and stopped only when the secretary called his name.

"Is she expecting you?"

"Uh, no. Sorry. Kinda got carried away." He gave her a sheepish smile and waited as a quick call was made.

"She said come on in." Carrie Patterson smiled as she watched him go on through the door.

"Find something?" She pushed back the keyboard and picked up her coffee cup.

"I think so. Take a look at this." Handing across the article he watched as she quickly read through it.

"Finally - a connection. Now if we can figure out how Marvin Stone was involved…"

"Well…" Matt plopped down in the chair in front of her desk. "Chuck said he worked at a health food store and had been a Golden Gloves champ…"

"I know De la Cruz interviewed his boss but I don't think he got much."

"Think I'll pay them a visit and Mr. Bell, too. Now that we have a direction to look in he might be of some help."

"Good catch."

"Guess I better get back to it."

"Thanks for bringing that up." She stood up and followed him to the door and both started out into the outer office. "It's been about to drive me crazy." Both halted in their tracks as they looked up to see Tamara Placer and her CNZ cameraman. "Excuse me…" Martinez pushed past Matt. "How did you get in here?"

"Hi, Sheriff. Tamara Placer with CNZ. I'd like to ask you a-..."

"No. You need to leave."

"But…"  
"Now." She pointed toward the elevator.

"Look, I -"

"You are being asked to leave. If you would really like to stay, I can make arrangements for you down in lockup. Your choice."

"So this is how it's going to be. Fine. Come on, Nate." She punched the button for the elevator and gave the pair an evil smile. "See you later, Houston." With that she entered the car followed by Nate and the doors closed.

Martinez looked at Houston whose entire demeanor had changed: he had gone from excited about finding information on their case to looking absolutely infuriated. "You okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry about that."

"Not your fault."

"I'm going to see what I can do about another restraining order."

"You and I both know that it's going to take more than what she's done today to get one."

He nodded glumly. "Guess I better get to work." He hit the stairwell down to the ground floor and went out to the department Suburban in the parking lot. It was almost 8:00 AM. He dialed CJ's cell phone and was glad when it was answered on the second ring.

"Good morning, Cowboy."

"Not really."

She could tell from the sound of his voice that he was upset. "What's happened?"

"Well…" He began with telling her about Bohlmann's daughters and ended with Placer's visit to the Sheriff's office.

"That little…" CJ didn't finish the phrase.

"And of course the restraining order isn't worth a butt wipe here in Texas." He blew out a breath as he stopped at a red light.

"Uh huh. But a couple of things occur to me. One, she has a track record of harassing you and you've got the restraining order to prove it. Two, she's now on Francine's bad side."

"Would you do me a favor and talk to Marty and the boys - tell 'em about her trespassing and make sure that they keep a sharp eye out?"

"You've got it." She paused for a minute. "So what are you doing now?"

"I'm on the way to talk to Mr. Bell. I found a connection between Mrs. Bell and Bohlmann." He explained the article.

"That's some good news, hon. Well, just be careful out there. And if Placer shows up keep your temper."

"I'll also be keeping video of her."

"Good. I was going to advise that. Love you."

"Love you more. 'Bye." He disconnected the call and continued on to The St. Regis Hotel where Bell was staying. Just as the elevator doors were about to shut he spied Placer hot-footing it into the hotel, her eyes quickly surveying the lobby. As the elevator smoothly ascended, he felt a hot anger go through him. _What in the hell is she after me for now?!_ Taking a deep breath as the doors opened to the seventh floor, he tried to put his mind back on the investigation and pushed the buzzer for room 717. He waited a minute, then buzzed again. After another minute he pulled his notebook out of his back pocket and flipped through to find Bell's cell phone number. Placing the call he looked around the hallway and saw one of the maids approaching. There was no answer to the phone call and he tried the buzzer again, a faint unease coming over him.

"Is there something I can help you with, sir?" The maid, a woman of about fifty, gave him a smile.

"My name's Houston." He showed the badge. "I need to speak with Mr. Bell but he doesn't seem to be in and he isn't answering his phone."

She looked down at the door knob. "He doesn't have the do not disturb sign out, so if he's inside I would be happy to tell him you're here."

"Thank you, ma'am." He stepped aside as she slid the keycard and entered the room after announcing herself. Matt waited and then heard a scream from inside the room. He tried the door but the automatic lock had done its job. He pounded on the door and it was opened within seconds by the maid, her face a picture of horror.

"He's in the bath…" She leaned against the door frame, gulping in big breaths of air while he made his way across the suite, drawing his pistol, and running into the bathroom, skidding to a stop on the marble floor as he saw Morgan Bell in the jacuzzi tub surrounded by swirling bloody water. Before he even approached the man to check for a pulse he knew it was far too late; Bell's complexion was the same as the white marble of the vanity.


	8. Chapter 8

**08 - The St. Regis**

CJ tucked her legs up underneath her as she sat down on the back porch swing, setting the laptop on the seat and opening it up. She and Matt had talked the night before about more kids, and his only concern was the possibility of her becoming pregnant with twins again. Although she had carried Vinny and Mike to thirty six weeks, which was good, he knew that the pregnancy had been hard on her; both boys had been over six pounds at birth and the weight had really been the most difficult part for her.

Opening the laptop she began researching the incidence of twin births and learned that her age might well have been a factor. One thing that she didn't know was if twins ran in her family. Her mother Cathy had passed away from cancer when CJ was ten years old, just five years after her father Eddie had been killed in a car crash that CJ and Matt later found out was murder. Her only living relative at the time was her father's brother Errol Parsons, an evil-tempered drunk who grudgingly took her in. The only good thing about the move to Errol's ranch in Houston was the fact that Matt and his dad lived right next door. If not for them as well as Madre Rosa, she would have run away from his cruel treatment.

Pausing, she now considered that she really knew very little about her family. _But I certainly know how to find out!_ After a few minutes of research she hit paydirt: her maternal grandmother had been a twin. She went back through more records but could find no other evidence of multiple births in her family.

She looked up at the sound of a pickup parking behind the house and the foreman of her horse ranch emerged and came up on the porch, a big smile on his face. "Good morning."

"Mornin'." Ben Devereux handed over a three foot long tube to her. "Hot off the press - actually the printer, but you get my drift." Removing the ball cap from his head he sat down on the swing as she closed the computer, her face alight with excitement.

CJ twisted off the cap of the container and slid out the contents. The blueprints for the indoor training arena were completed. She felt a surge of excitement and looked up as Ben spoke again.

"And I just dropped off a copy at the inspector's office. Put 'em right in his hands."

"Oh, thank you!" She was positively beaming.

"Figured he couldn't use that as an excuse to drag his heels again."

"That's the truth."

"So maybe when we get the arena built Madre Rosa will get her wish, huh?" He laughed.

"I don't know about that. That's going to be up to Matt."

"Well, I don't think she's going to let up anytime soon. Anyway…" Ben stood up and stretched. "Better get myself back to it. We've still got hay to work. Don't want to get on the boss's bad side."

"That's something you don't have to worry about."

"Talk to you later."

"Thanks again."

After she watched the foreman drive away the thought occurred to her that Matt knew even less about his biological family than she did hers. For someone who spent so much time looking into other people, he had never looked into his own roots. About the time that she started to open the computer to do just that she heard the boys beginning to fuss about something and carried it back inside.

Meanwhile, after calling the sheriff directly, Houston's next call was to Michael Littlebear; his reaction to the news of Bell's death was a long string of oaths followed by a minute of silence. He promised to join the deputy as soon as he could get there.

While waiting for CSU and the Coroner, Matt had the maid to take a seat on the sofa. "Have you spoken to Mr. Bell since he checked in?"

"No." She blew her nose and did her best to calm down. "I've been off for the last two days. Just came back at 6:00 this morning."

After getting her contact information, he let her leave and was about to slip on a pair of nitrile gloves when the there was a buzz at the door. Two uniformed officers had been sent to secure the scene and Matt asked one to stay inside to open the door for the others who would be responding to work the scene and the other to guard the hallway. Turning away, he put on the gloves and carefully looked around the room. Nothing appeared to be out of place and he went back into the bathroom. Bell had shed his clothes and left them on the floor. He approached the tub again and peered around the edge of it in search of a weapon of any type, but found nothing. A bottle of vodka was sitting on the edge about half empty along with a glass. Leaning forward he couldn't see much in the tub for all of the blood. The man was reclined against the back, his body below his upper chest submerged in the swirling water. Both arms and hands were under the water and the detective shook his head, the thought that maybe Morgan had committed suicide coming to mind. He went back out to the main part of the suite and looked around. When Bell had arrived at the hotel he had one suitcase from his trip to Dallas and a search of the drawers and closets came up empty. The bed didn't appear to have been touched at all other than the lone suitcase that had been placed there. Matt looked through it but found nothing unusual. There was a buzz at the door again and the deputy opened it to allow CSU tech Michelle Rodolfo inside.

"Fancy meeting you here." She smiled at the detective. "And guess who is down in the lobby?"

"Tamara Placer." His answer drew a somewhat surprised look from her.

"How'd you know?" She set her cases down and opened one up, removing a camera.

"Because she evidently followed me here." He saw the questioning look. "She popped up at Martinez's office."

"Oh, boy. Bet that didn't go over too well."

"No, especially since she had already been run off when we were having breakfast at the diner."

"Hmmm…." She started looking around the room. "I take it you've dealt with her before?"

"Yep - even got a restraining order against her in California."

"Wow. So…" Motioning around the room, she asked, "What have we got here? This room isn't being very cooperative."

"That's because Mr. Morgan Bell is in the jacuzzi." He wagged a finger at her, leading her into the bathroom.

"Oh...well, that'll sure turn you off of a hot tub I guess." She began taking photographs. After a minute or so she looked around. "Really not much here to work with." She bagged the bottle of vodka and the glass.

"I've got a feeling it's a waste of time. Bet he committed suicide."

"How did you get called here?"

"Didn't." He explained the case.

"That's just sad."

"Be glad you didn't have the night shift last night." He told about Josey and Leah Bohlmann.

They were joined by the Coroner's assistants then. A young woman and a middle-aged man entered the bathroom. The body was removed from the tub and as Houston had expected, his wrists had been cut open.

Rodolfo put on an arm-length glove and fished around in the hot tub, her hand landing on a knife within seconds. "Looks like you might be right about the suicide." She bagged the instrument as Matt walked back out into the suite and went behind the bar, searching through the shelves until he found a small knife rack that was obviously missing a piece.

"Think I found where the knife came from." He waited as she came around behind the bar and began photographing first the bar area and then the rack. Matt pulled another knife out of the set and its handle was a match to the one found in the tub.

Michael Littlebear entered the suite then. "So what's the deal?"

"Looks like suicide. We think he took one of the knives out of here…" Houston showed the rack as Michele held up the knife from the tub. "I had a few questions for him. Found a connection between Mrs. Bell and Paul Bohlmann." The explanation left the cop shaking his head in wonder.

"So how does Stone fit into the equation?"

"Don't know." Matt popped his back and looked around the suite once more. "Think I'm going to go have a talk with security and see about surveillance video. Doubt it will do us any good." He started for the door, followed by Littlebear.

"I think you're probably right. Bell was a mess when he left PD yesterday." The pair went out to the elevator and pushed the button. "Damn press is already downstairs in the lobby. How in the hell did they find out about this so quick?"

"Most likely they got a tip from a vulture named Tamara Placer." With a disgusted look he exited the elevator and was immediately set upon by members of the press. Both he and the cop replied with the standard, "No comment," and went straight to the security offices where they asked for and were given copies of the video surveillance from the time that Bell had checked in until Matt had arrived. As he started out to get into the Suburban, Houston's phone rang. "Yes, ma'am?"

Martinez turned off the television in her office. "I see you've made the mid-day news, Sergeant."

"Not by choice. I'm on my way back to the office now." He told her about the videos.

"Okay. I just called to let you know that I put De la Cruz on the pizza delivery questioning."

"How bad is he cussing me?"

"He's just glad that he's been on vacation the last four days and you got landed with the case. Talk to you later." With that she was gone and Houston and Littlebear were left to fight their way back out of the hotel and into their vehicles, Matt catching a look from Placer as he started the engine. The smirk on her face as she got into the car that was being driven by her cameraman set the detective's teeth on edge. He paused before pulling out and took a picture of the car that was closing in on his bumper. "Time to start on another restraining order."

 _Meanwhile in Los Angeles…_

"So you understand exactly who your target is?" The fiftyish man swiveled slightly in the desk chair, his salt and pepper hair glinting in the muted shafts of sunlight entering through the window of the high rise office looking out over the city of Los Angeles.

"I do." A man twenty eight years of age with dirty blonde hair nodded.

"Good. And you understand what happened to the last man I gave this job?"

The younger man shrugged. "It matters very little. I know how to get the job done."

"Good. It's nice to see someone who's confident _and_ competent." There was a pause. "I'll expect to hear good news soon then." He watched as the younger man gave a curt nod and left the room.

Vasil Barkowski watched him go and lit a cigarette as he dialed a number in Texas,. He inhaled deeply then blew a stream of smoke upward. The phone was finally answered.

"Yeah, what?"

"There's a new player in the game."

"'Bout damn time." The portly man on the other end of the call slapped the backside of the blonde who walked past the lounge chair where he sat before slowly lowering her scantily clad body into the swimming pool. He gnawed on a cigar. "My sources tell me he's in Houston right now."

"As do mine. I'll be in touch." Barkowski disconnected the call and made two others, one being answered in Japan and the other in Mexico. He passed along the news to both parties and hung up.

Standing, he turned to look out over the city. When he had arrived in the US twenty seven years earlier, dreams had fueled his hard work. His beginnings had been humble, but it didn't take long for him to get a reputation as a shrewd businessman who wasn't to be crossed. To be certain, there had been a few that had tried - and their deaths had persuaded many others not to test the man from the rough northern area of Albania.

 _Back in Houston…_

Back at HCSO, Houston pulled into a parking space and went quickly inside and back to his cubicle to look at the footage. Littlebear arrived a few minutes later, a disgruntled look on his face.

"That woman is a nuisance."

"You're a lot more polite than me."

"I won't be for long if she doesn't back off. And you might like to know some of the questions that she was peppering me with."

"Oh?" He had loaded the disc into the computer and the images began playing on the monitor as Michael pulled a chair over.

"Part of them were about Bell. But part of them weren't: they were about you and Sheriff Martinez."

"Me and Martinez?" He looked up in surprise.

"And they weren't asking about your professional relationship." The detective watched as the color drained from Houston's face. Neither spoke for a minute.

"That…" He hit the desk with his right hand. "What exactly did she ask you?"

"Oh, a couple of things. Like how long you two have been an item and had you been in a relationship before you got the gig here. But don't worry - I didn't rat you out." The last was said with a crooked smile.

"I'm gonna…" Leaning back in the chair he took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying his best to calm down. "I don't have time for this crap." Shaking his head, he went back to the video, the color slowly returning to his face.

As expected, the surveillance didn't show the two anything; Bell had checked in and been taken up to his room by one of the bellmen. Absolutely nothing else had transpired involving Bell and room 717. Littlebear scratched the back of his head and smoothed down his black hair. "So it would seem that he committed suicide. He was sure torn up yesterday in interrogation." He looked to Matt who nodded. "They didn't have any kids. Guess that's a good thing."

"Yeah." Houston ejected the disc from the drive and put it back in the case.

"And the lab didn't get diddly off the golf cart."

"Guess my next step will be to go talk to Stone's boss and see if there was any connection between him and Bell or Bohlmann." He waited as the other cop answered his ringing phone.

"Damn. Okay, I'll get on it." Michael hung up swearing once again. "Looks like you're it. Got another call to go on. Let me know if you get anything."

"Alright." Matt watched him leave, then picked up the phone on his desk and called up to Martinez's office. Carrie Patterson informed him that their boss was out of the office and wouldn't be back until later that afternoon. He left a message for her to call him and then went back out to the parking lot and got into the Suburban, immensely glad that Placer wasn't waiting there for him. As he left the lot he dialed CJ's phone. "We've got a problem."

"Oh? What's that?" She had just settled Mike into his high chair and was filling cups with juice. As he explained what Littlebear had told him about Placer's questions the carton of juice was set on the table forcefully causing some of the liquid to erupt onto the surface. "She actually asked him that?!" Sheila and Madre Rosa both looked up to see the angry look on her face and exchanged a look.

The nanny spoke up. "I've got the kids. Go on and talk to him."

Going out onto the back porch, CJ began pacing. "That…"

"Now I've got a question for my lawyer: do we need to get another lawyer to work on the restraining order when the time comes? Because I've got a feeling this is just going to be the tip of the iceberg with her, Babe. You may need to take out one against her before it's all said and done."

"I was just thinking the same thing myself. And I think I'm going to make a couple of phone calls to Roy and Vince."

"Security for the PH?" He stopped at a light, automatically looking around at the cars surrounding him.

"Uh huh. And I think we need to do some upgrades here as well."

"I believe you're right. Go ahead and call 'em." He moved forward with the traffic. "Babe, I'm sorry about all of this. You know I would nev-"

"Matt, it goes without saying I know you wouldn't cheat on me."

"Yeah." It was quiet for a moment. "You know I really don't need all this mess with her right now; my plate is full enough as it is."

"I know, sweetie. Just do what you need to do and know I've got your back, okay?"

"Alright. Love you."

"Love you, too." She disconnected the call and looked out toward the pastures, calming herself down a little before punching the number for Vince Novelli's house in Hawaii.


	9. Chapter 9

**09 - Rumor Mill**

"Can I help you?" The man behind the counter of the health food store looked to Matt as the customer he had just been helping turned and went out the door.

"I sure hope so. Name's Houston - HCSO." He tapped the badge on his belt.

"Larry Loritz." The two shook hands. "And I bet you're here about Jerome."

"Yes, sir."

"I already talked to one of your guys. Don't think I was much help."

"Maybe you can be now. Do you know if Mr. Stone knew a lady by the name of Lydia Bell?"

"Bell…" He leaned on the counter. "Not that I remember."

"What about a Dr. Paul Bohlmann?"

"Yeah, that's the doctor that worked on Jerome's little boy. He had a heart transplant a few months ago."

"Bet that's it then." Matt nodded. "What did he happen to say about him?"

"Oh, he thought the guy was amazing. Said that Xavier wouldn't have made it another month if it hadn't been for that transplant coming through."

"Mr. Loritz, I sure do appreciate your help. Thanks." He left the store and got back into the Suburban, flipping through his notebook for Zoe Stone's phone number. It was answered after a couple of rings and Matt identified himself and arranged to meet with her at 1:00. After hanging up, he looked at the clock on the dash and decided to get some lunch before heading to Mrs. Stone's mother's house where she and the kids had been staying since the murder of her husband. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed east on FM 1960 for a quarter mile before turning into the lot of a Chinese restaurant. All during his meal he kept looking out the window hoping that he wouldn't see the reporter lurking about. Pocketing the fortune cookies that came with his order, he went back out to the Suburban and headed west on the highway again and then south onto Shay Lane.

He pulled into the drive of a one story brick house in the 19000 block and got out, walking up to the front porch and ringing the bell. The sound of dogs barking greeted him and in a minute the front door was opened by a woman of about sixty with graying hair. After identifying himself to Agnes Everhart she invited him inside. "Let me put these dogs away. Come on, Scooter."

"Don't do it on my account." Matt had already started petting on the German Shepherd that was now leaning against his leg.

"Please come on into the living room. Zoe will be with you in just a minute. She and Xavier are finishing his math lesson."

"Yes, ma'am." He followed her into the room and was instructed to have a seat on the couch. In a flash both the Shepherd and the mouthy Chihuahua were clambering for attention causing him to laugh.

"Are you sure they aren't bothering you?" She took a seat in a nearby chair.

"No, ma'am. I love dogs. Got a half Husky-half Blue Heeler at home."

"That sounds like a beautiful combination."

"She's a good one. Makes a good babysitter." He stood as Zoe Stone entered the room.

"Detective Houston? Please have a seat." She settled into another chair. "I see you've met Scooter and Daisy."

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled down at the pair that wouldn't let him stop petting them. "I hate to bother you, but I think we may be making some headway on your husband's case. Mr. Loritz tells me that your son received a heart transplant recently."

Tears sprang up in her eyes. "Yes, and I saw on the news this morning that Dr. Bohlmann had been murdered."

Matt nodded. "I believe his case and your husband's are related, along with Mrs. Lydia Bell."

"I don't know a...no, wait. Yes, I do! She was one of the ladies who helped us get in touch with Dr. Bohlmann. She's...she's dead?"

"I'm afraid so. She and the doctor both, uh...well, they were found in the same condition as your husband." He was trying to be delicate about the fact that all three had been found with their hearts removed.

"Oh, my God." Zoe began crying in earnest then, and was immediately handed a tissue by her mother who took her hand. "Why on Earth? Who would do…?"

"We've got a lead on someone, a sketch of the man who was seen at the doctor's house. Does he look familiar to you?" Matt unfolded the paper that he removed from his shirt pocket and handed it across to her. "I…" She took a breath and studied the picture. "He looks kind of familiar, but I don't know where I've seen him before."

"Mom?" A boy of about eleven with sandy blonde hair stood in the doorway.

"Xavier, you don't need to be in here." She immediately went to him.

"Are you the detective?" He curiously eyed Matt.

"Uh huh."

"Go on back to your History lesson, sweetie." Zoe was trying to head him back out of the room but he resisted.

"Are you going to find the man that killed my dad?"

"I'm sure trying."

"Good. Because when you do I want you to kill him."

"Xavier! Go on now. Go!" She turned him and pointed him toward the back of the house. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize." Matt watched as she took another shuddering breath. He stood. "I'll leave that sketch here with you - maybe it will come to you." Both women walked him to the door and he opened it, but paused, turning back to face the pair. "Don't be too hard on him for what he said. I know exactly how he feels."

"Thank you for your help."

Handing her one of his cards he spoke again. "If y'all need anything - anything at all - don't hesitate to call me." With that he went back out to the SUV and backed out of the driveway, wondering what direction to head next. For lack of anything else to try, he called the lab. Chris Eversong got the call and ran a check for him.

"Houston, it looks like Simmons got some prints at the Bohlmann house last night that didn't belong to the doctor. Not sure who they belong to - they aren't in the system."

"Alright. Thanks." He hung up and started back to the office. The trip down I-69 was uneventful and he pulled into the parking lot on Baker Street, cursing to himself when he saw three news reporters outside along with Tamara Placer. Just as he was about to open the door, his phone rang. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I just got your message." Martinez was pulling into the parking lot herself.

"I don't know how to say this…" Matt took a big breath.

"Just say it."

"Tamara Placer is trying to make out that there's something going on between us."

"She…" Martinez had just pulled into her parking spot and the group of reporters had spied her as had Matt. "Crap."

"I'm in the parking lot, too." He thought quickly. "Look, if we both start in there at the same time…"

"Uh huh."

"I'm kind of at a dead end right now. How about I just go to the ranch?"

"That might be for the best." The sound of someone pecking on the window of her SUV could be heard over the call. "I'll call you later and get the lowdown on us." The last was said with a laugh before she disconnected the call.

Matt put the phone down and waited until the reporters were following her up the steps before he started the engine and left the parking lot. Once safely away, he breathed a sigh of relief. All the way to the ranch he kept looking at the other vehicles and expected to see Placer. He was relieved as he went through the gates and pulled in behind the house.

Madre Rosa was sitting on the back porch snapping beans."You're home early. Did you get to the bottom of your case?"

Matt pulled off the ball cap and set it on the swing next to him and reached over into the bowl, removing a few of the beans and began snapping. "No, ma'am." He finished the handful and reached in for more.

"When you were a boy you didn't much care for this job, _hijo_." She glanced at him as he continued, not receiving an answer. "What's wrong?" He shook his head. "Don't lie - look at me." Matt quickly looked up at her and then back down at the beans in his hands. "Tell me what you're worried about. Is it the case?"

"No."

"Then what? Is it what you called CJ about earlier?" He nodded. "So tell me what happened."

Disgustedly he replied. "Absolutely nothing - but that doesn't stop that woman from trying to make everybody believe that something has."

"And who is she?"

"Tamara Placer."

"And?" He shook his head. "Tell me, _hijo_." After a big sigh, he finally told her. "Matt, anyone who knows you will know that there is no way you would ever do such a thing to CJ."

Shrugging, he replied, "I know that, but I also know that it makes the sheriff look bad - and the department." Both snapped the beans in silence for a minute. "She's got a hard enough job without that."

"Can I give you a piece of wisdom?" She watched as he nodded and grabbed another handful of beans. "This Placer woman won't last. I've seen them come and go, and that one just doesn't have what it takes to stay in the spotlight." He shook his head. "Trust me - I'm old." That got a chuckle out of him. "And the most important thing that you need you already have: a wife who knows you would never do what she's accusing you of doing." They continued to snap the beans in silence for a couple more minutes before he spoke.

"Is CJ here?"

"She's at the PH."

Leaning over, he kissed the housekeeper on the cheek. "Thanks. Think I'll ride over and pay her a visit." Putting the cap back on his head, he started down the steps but turned back to her. "And you're not old: you're well-seasoned." He went down the steps and out to the barn. A few minutes later Rosa saw him exit through the back with a horse in tow, then he mounted up and swung out through one of the pastures. A gate had been installed connecting the two properties and he took the mahogany bay down the fenceline, stopping for a minute beside the oak tree where he and CJ had met, just as he always did. The gate was a quarter of a mile further and he leaned over and unfastened the chain, then closed and secured it before riding up toward the renovated barn and house. She was standing in front of one of the farm trucks with blueprints rolled out on the hood talking to Ben and Scott. He opened the gate from the pasture and as he leaned to fasten the chain back in place, she spied him, a large smile spreading across her face.

"Hey, Cowboy! You're home early."

"Uh huh." He swung down from the saddle and gave her a peck on the cheek. "So what are y'all up to?"

"Just showing Scott the final plans."

Matt leaned over and looked at them. "Looks good. I hope Errol is spinning in his grave." The comment made the others crack up. "He could have done a lot with this place if he'd gotten off his ass." They talked on for a while and then she rolled up the plans and put them back in the tube. "Feel like goin' for a ride down by the river?"

"I guess. But I'll have to come back for the truck."

Scott spoke up quickly. "Not if I drive it back you won't."

"Well, alright then. Thanks." She waited as Matt mounted the horse, removed his left foot from the stirrup, and then held out a hand to help her climb on. "See y'all later." The pair went back through the gate and slowly rode toward the river.

"Did you get the case wrapped up?"

"Nope." He didn't say anything else and felt her arms tighten around his waist a little as she rested her head on his back.

"So why are you home so early?" She waited and after a brief pause he told her about his conversation with Martinez that afternoon and her response to the allegations. After a good laugh she hugged him. "I really do like her. She doesn't get rattled easily." He didn't have much to say. "But I can tell it's really bothering you."

"I just…" He shook his head. "I don't understand why she's after me."

"Well, it's obvious: you broke her heart!"

"Cute."

"Really, hon, think about it: you're a good target. Rich, handsome - devastatingly handsome…" She saw him shake his head again. "You've led an exciting life, are somewhat famous, have a history with a lot of women…"

"Bingo. That's why I wish she would leave me the hell alone. That was...it was in the past. Those days are over."

"And anybody who matters knows that, hon."

"But it isn't just me that it affects, Babe. It affects Martinez and the department."

"Honestly, if that's the most Francine has to worry about she's in great shape. From what you told me it doesn't seem to be bothering her at all." He grunted in reply and turned the horse south along the riverbank. "So is that why you came to see me?"

He was quiet for a minute. "Yeah."

"So you didn't just come to sweep me off my feet and take me for a ride down by the secluded river _and_ …" She left the last part unsaid as he began to chuckle.

"That's just a bonus."


	10. Chapter 10

**10 - Lost & Found **

After returning to the ranch, Matt and CJ spent the rest of the afternoon with the kids, taking them riding on the mahogany bay and playing in the yard. When Brian arrived home, he picked up Catey and gave her a ride on his shoulders up the back steps where Sheila was waiting for her and her brothers. "Hey…" The almost seventeen year old quietly spoke to the pair. "Can we talk for a few minutes?"

"Sure." CJ spoke to the nanny for a minute and then went back out onto the back porch.

"So whatcha want to talk about, Bri?" Matt leaned back on the swing and looked across to where the teen sat on the other swing.

"Well, I've had an idea." He paused for a minute. "I know how hard y'all have tried to adopt me. And I appreciate everything you've done for me…" Another pause ensued. "But I think I want to do something else." There was a shocked silence from the couple.

"What?"

The boy gave a slight laugh and smiled at the pair. "You know how you're always telling me never give up - that there's always a way to get something done?"

"Uh huh."

"I think I may have found a way to get what we all want and the court won't be able to interfere with us."

"Have you now?" CJ settled back into Matt's arm and listened.

"Kind of beat them at their own game." Brian continued to smile. "I'm going to petition the court for emancipation."

"Okay. Well, there are certain requirements that you have to meet." She looked into his smiling eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. I talked to Ms. Sullivan about it and she thought it was a good idea. Just thought I needed to talk to y'all about it."

Matt spoke up. "What are the requirements?"

"Basically I have to show that I can manage my own business. You know, have a place to live, a job…"

Matt thought about what the boy was saying. "So you say we would be getting what we want - which is you here with us."

"Exactly. I could live here, work with Ben on the PH part time, and still go to school. And that way they can't gripe about when you have to be gone and I can still play football."

"And Laurie thought it would work?"

"Yep. Of course the owner of the PH needs to approve my work application first." He gave CJ a big smile.

"Done."

"I was hoping you would say that. We're going to submit the petition tomorrow."

"I'm proud of you, Bri." Matt stood and the couple both hugged the teen.

"But as far as I'm concerned y'all are still going to be my family."

"Glad to hear it."

"Think we've got time to work on my passing a little before supper?"

"We'll give it a try." The pair went down the steps and over into the yard a little ways as CJ watched them for a minute before heading into the house.

After a feast of Madre Rosa's fried pork chops, Matt took the twins upstairs for a bath while CJ took Catey Rose, and the romp that the family enjoyed in the den before bedtime put Matt in a much better mood than he had been earlier in the day. Just as the kids were tucked in the bed he received a phone call.

"Detective Houston? It's Zoe Stone."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I - I don't know what to do. It's Xavier. He's disappeared."

"When was the last time you saw him?" Matt jogged down the stairs and crossed over to the gun case in the den, removing his holster and pistol, putting them on as he spoke.

"He was playing video games in his room about an hour ago. I went up with the laundry about half an hour ago and he was gone." It was obvious that she was trying not to panic.

"Gotta go, Babe." Matt leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. "Mrs. Stone, has he ever run away before?"

"No. But since Jerome was killed he's been so moody."

"That's understandable. Have you called anybody else?"

"Not yet. I looked around here - thought maybe he was in the backyard or something."

"Okay, I'll call in some help." Sliding behind the wheel of the Suburban he put the phone on speaker. "Is there some place around there that he likes to go?"

"He loves the river." She began sobbing. "He really doesn't need to be overdoing right now."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm going to make a phone call and head that way. Just stay put in case he comes back." He hung up and called Chuck, explaining the situation with the boy who had had a heart transplant not too long ago.

"I'll call for a couple of deputies to come help us. We can expand it if we need to."

"I doubt he will have gone too far." Matt hung up and went north on Crosby Huffman Road to FM 1960, slowing as he neared the home of the boy's grandmother. If Xavier was going to the river he would have to cross the highway. Pulling over into the parking lot of a restaurant he pulled up a map on the computer. The straightest route to the river would be up Diamond M Drive. "Well, Xavier…" He pulled back out on the highway and then turned north onto Diamond M. "Where are you, buddy?" It didn't seem like his idea was going to pan out until he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Putting the SUV in reverse, he shone a light at a tree on the right side of the road and heaved a sigh of relief. He hit the lightbar on the vehicle and put it in park. Sliding out he pulled a flashlight out and went around the front of the truck to the boy who was sitting under the tree. "How ya doin', Xavier?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Your mom called me. Seems she thought you were playing video games instead of out going for a stroll." He watched as the boy hung his head. "Here." He handed him the phone. "Go on and call her." The call lasted less than a minute and the boy handed it over, his head tucked down as the detective made a call to Chuck cancelling the search. He looked back down at the boy. "You feelin' alright?" The answer was a nod. "Okay then, let's get you back to your mom." Xavier got off the ground and into the SUV wordlessly, sitting still while the seat belt was secured. He watched the man walk around the front of the truck, flip off the emergency lights, and then turn around in the next driveway.

"Things are pretty screwed up right now, huh?"

"Yeah." Xavier looked out the window. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to get out of there for a while. My dad used to take me fishing on the river up there." He pointed over his shoulder. " We would talk a lot."

"It's good that you have those memories."

"It hurts." There was a slight sob.

"It will."

Snuffling he looked up. "I heard what you said to my mom about you knew how I felt." There was a nod. "How?"

"Because my father was murdered, too."

"Is that why you're a cop?"

"Partly."

"Did the guy get caught?"

"Uh huh."

"You caught him?"

"Yup."

There was quiet as they drove the short distance back to Shay Lane where both Zoe Stone and her mother were waiting for the boy. As Matt put the Suburban in park he told the boy, "Let me talk to her first. Stay put." He got out as the two women moved toward the vehicle. "Ma'am, we need to talk."

"Is he going to be in legal trouble?"

"No, ma'am." Matt lowered his voice. "I think he just needs somebody to talk to about what happened; we did a little bit on the way here, but if he wants to call me please let him." He stopped for a few seconds. "And like I said earlier, please don't be too hard on him. He's been through a lot and he's got a long way to go. But I don't think he'll run off like that again."

Tears began flowing again and she nodded her head as Matt motioned for the boy to get out of the truck. With head hung low, he was engulfed in a hug by both his mother and grandmother.

"I'm sorry." He struggled, trying not to cry.

"I'm just glad you're okay."

Houston pulled one of his cards out of his pocket and leaned against the front of the SUV. "Xavier…" He waited as the boy disentangled himself from the women. "Here's my card. If you want to talk some more you just call me, okay? I'm not always in town; I work in California, too, but if you call that cell phone number there you'll get me. As a matter of fact, I know somebody else that you might like to talk to - he's kinda been through the same thing as you except it was his mom that he lost." He jotted down the number for the ranch. "His name is Brian and he's sixteen years old. Lives with my wife and me." Handing the card over he caught the boy's eye, his voice quiet but firm. "And don't go off like that anymore. Your mom needs you now more than ever, okay?"

"Yeah." He looked at the card and then held out his hand to the detective and the two shook. "Thanks."  
"You're welcome. Y'all have a good rest of the night." Turning he started for the truck when Mrs. Everhart approached him.

"Detective? I don't care what that Placer woman said on TV - I don't believe a word of it." She reached up and gave him a hug. He didn't say anything, just patted her on the back, nodded and left the family in their front yard. As he got back on FM 1960, the anger started bubbling up. Just what had Placer said about him now?

Driving east he fumed, figuring that the so-called journalist had most likely trotted out her theory about him and Martinez. Even if CJ and other friends and family members didn't believe the lies that she was spreading, it was embarrassing to have a total stranger like Mrs. Everhart comment on it. He was just grateful that she hadn't believed it.

He started over the bridge across Lake Houston completely focusing on the reporter's stupidity, and didn't notice a truck that was closing in on him until it swung out from behind him into the left of the two eastbound lanes. The flash of headlights in the driver's side mirror got his attention and in a matter of seconds the older model Chevy pickup was ramming into the side of the Suburban, grinding the right side into the concrete wall that separated him from the lake. Sparks flew and he heard the right front tire as it exploded, the SUV shuddering in response and he was jerked inside the cab as the forward momentum was suddenly halted, the airbags blasting out from the steering wheel and dash. He was momentarily stunned by the impact. Pushing the bag down out of his line of vision, the detective tried to get the license number on the vehicle but all he could see was taillights quickly disappearing across the bridge.


	11. Chapter 11

**11 - The List**

"You sure you're okay, pard?" Chuck worriedly looked at his longtime friend as he sat in the back of the ambulance.

"Just pissed." Matt was being forced to go to the hospital, something that he had tried his best to talk his way out of, but when Francine Martinez ordered him to follow the standard procedure he didn't have much choice in the matter.

"I called CJ like you asked." He watched as Matt glumly nodded, filling out the paperwork for the EMT that was sitting next to him.

"Hope you told her not to come."  
"I did - but she's coming anyway."

"We're ready to leave now, sir." The EMT nodded to Chuck who began closing the doors.

"I'll see what I can stir up on this jerk, Houston. Take it easy, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He saw his friend close the door and heard as he tapped it to let the driver know that all was clear.

Inside the treatment room at Memorial Hermann North, Matt once again answered questions and waited as the attending physician ordered an x-ray. In a few minutes a nurse ushered CJ in just as one of the techs was finishing a mandatory blood draw for blood alcohol. "So what's the big idea, Cowboy?" She gave him a hug.

"Not my idea. Some idiot rammed into me on the bridge."

"They were still working it when I came across."

"You really didn't have to come down here, Babe. I'm fine. Just got a couple of little cuts from the airbag."

"And if it had been me instead you would be doing the same thing, so just hush and give me another hug." The pair embraced again. "So Chuck said it was a truck that ran into you?"

"Yeah, a dark blue Chevy - about a late eighties, early nineties maybe. Couldn't get the tag for the damn airbag."

"You can cuss it all you want; you would have been hurt a lot worse without it."

"Bet the boss lady won't be too happy."

A voice got their attention as Martinez stuck her head inside the room. "The boss lady is just glad you're okay." She entered. "We've got units on both sides of the lake looking for the truck."

"Sorry."

"You didn't ask the guy to hit you - did you?" She gave him a playful smile.

"No." He shook his head and let out a sigh as the nurse returned with a wheelchair to take him for the x-ray. While CJ took the holster and gun from him, she and Francine stepped out into the hall for a cup of coffee.

Not knowing exactly what to say, the sheriff gave CJ a glance. "Have you heard the latest?"

"Oh, sure. And here I sit with the other woman." The lawyer snickered and then both laughed. "He's really upset by all of it, though. That woman has been a pain in the ass for - well, too long."

"He told me about their run-ins. She's a real piece of work."

"I feel another restraining order coming on." They sipped coffee quietly until Matt was brought back to the room.

"You know Vince and Uncle Roy are going to give you hell over this. By the way, they'll be here tomorrow." CJ was holding his hand.

"Great. Just what I need - somebody else giving me hell." Matt rubbed his eyes.

"Let one of your guys know that I'm sending another unit over to your house - assuming that you're given clearance to return to work tomorrow."

"Sure you want me to come back? I seem to have a lot of baggage lately."

"I'm not worried about it. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She patted him on the shoulder and left.

Matt pulled out his phone and called Marty to let him know about the vehicle that would be delivered and as he hung up, caught CJ watching him closely. "What?"

"Nothing." Both looked up as the doctor entered the room and told him he was free to go. As they crossed over the bridge on the way back to the ranch, the only telltale sign of the accident was a mark along the concrete wall.

When they pulled up behind the house, another department Suburban was already parked in the drive. "They sure didn't waste any time." Matt got out of the pickup and walked up to the back porch. "What's goin' on?" He looked at the group seated on the twin swings: Madre Rosa, Sheila, and Marty sat on one while Ben and Marcy were seated across from them.

Marty was the first to speak. "Oh, I just wanted to see what kind of vehicle they gave you. Thought maybe it would be an old Nova or something." The comment caused everyone to crack up. "Guess they must like you. That thing is brand spankin' new."

"Glad somebody does." Matt caught the key that the foreman tossed him and sat down on the swing next to Marcy. CJ had a seat on his left and his arm automatically went around her.

"You don't look too worse for wear." Ben leaned forward, inspecting the small cuts on his face. "Airbag do that?"

Matt nodded. "Yep."

"Better a few cuts than hitting the steering wheel." Marcy looked to CJ who nodded her agreement.

"So did you find the boy?" Rosa watched him carefully.

"Sure did. He's back at home."

"You look like you could use some sleep, _hijo_. Go to bed." She smiled as he cut his eyes over to her.

"And the boss has spoken." Marty stood up. "Believe I'm gonna hit the hay myself. Y'all have a good night." Tipping his hat to the ladies, he started for the steps as they said goodnight to him. "And Houston? Don't fall outta the bed." More laughter ensued.

"Think I'm going to go take a shower." The detective stood up and went toward the door, stopping to kiss Rosa on the cheek. "'Night."

"Good night. _Dulces sueños_."

 _Meanwhile…_

In a rundown motel on the north side of I-10, twenty eight year old Besnik Dibra dropped down onto the bed. His hope of taking out Houston easily on the bridge hadn't worked at all. He had ditched the truck and stolen a car to get back to the motel. Running the man off the road hadn't been his first choice, but it had been hard to find an opportunity to take him out. Since he had picked up his trail, Houston had been armed and there hadn't been a clear shot. Barkowski had stressed to him that time was of the essence, however Besnik had absolutely no desire to leave a mess and get tracked down by the law. He would not report the attempt to the man in Los Angeles. For all anyone knew it was just an accident. No one - including Barkowski - could prove that he had been anywhere near Houston when it occurred.

What he needed was a plan, a way to draw the man out - preferably in a situation where he wouldn't be armed. He had heard about what the previous hit man had tried, and from what he could tell the target should have been taken out on his first attempt. No, he was going to be more selective, Barkowski be damned.

Friday morning dawned slightly cooler with a feel of rain in the air. Matt went down to the kitchen and found Madre Rosa already at work, a plate of her delicious cinnamon rolls hot out of the oven waiting for him along with a fresh pot of coffee. By the time he was leaving, all three of the kids were sitting in their high chairs and gave him goodbye kisses. CJ walked him out onto the back porch and the pair hugged. "Love you, Babe. See ya later." He started down the steps.

"Love you." She paused. "Hon…"

"Yeah?" He turned to look back up at her, settling the white straw hat down on his dark curls.

"Have you talked to George again?"

Shaking his head he replied, "No. He's in Dallas right now."

"Please be extra careful."

"Yes, ma'am." He winked at her and went on down to the new Suburban, discovering that he had to adjust the seat back before he could comfortably get behind the wheel. Starting down the driveway he ran through what they knew on the murders and what they didn't know. De la Cruz had left him a message saying that the pizza restaurants had been unproductive. He thought about that: could Josey have imagined that her dad's killer smelled like pizza? Of course just because he didn't work for one of the stores near Bohlmann's home didn't mean that it was a bad lead. The sketch had been released to the media but so far as he knew, there hadn't been any response on it. He had hoped that Zoe Stone might have thought of who the man could be.

His thoughts turned to Xavier. The kid had been through alot in the last few months. Major surgery alone would have been hard to deal with, but losing his dad not long after was a devastating blow.

And then he thought about the crash the night before. He knew that CJ hadn't said - and neither had he for that matter - that there was a possibility that someone was after him again. All the way to the hospital he had mentally bashed himself for being distracted over Tamara Placer's stupidity and not paying attention to what was going on around him. George had laughed about his head being on a swivel. _Bet he would love to see me today._ The entire drive had been spent constantly scanning the vehicles and people around him.

Pulling into the parking lot on Baker Street, Matt exited the vehicle and saw Chuck getting out of his truck a row ahead of him. "Mornin'."

"How ya feelin', pard?"

"I'm alright."

"I see the boss lady trusted you with another ride." Chuck opened the door for his friend.

"New one, too."

Chuck lowered his voice where no one else could hear it. "Well since you two are involved and all…" The look he received wasn't a nice one. "Oh, come on, man! You know I'm playing. What did you ever do to that Placer heifer anyway?"

"I turned her down."

"Really?"

"Yup. Not long after CJ and I got married she made her intentions _very_ clear in the elevator at LAPD. Hands on so to speak."

"You're kiddin' me?"

"Nope. Been having problems with her ever since."

"So because you wouldn't cheat on your wife she's telling everybody that you are? Damn." He took the cup of coffee that Houston poured for him and they started down the hall to their cubicle. "Should've heard Lisa and Mama last night when they heard about it."

"Uh oh…" Matt sat down behind his desk, then stood and popped his back before attempting it again.

"You ain't gonna believe this…" Chuck put down the coffee and leaned forward. "But my mama actually _cussed_. Called that woman all kinds of names and none of them were Christian." The reaction was one that he had been hoping for: Houston began laughing until he was almost crying.

"Oh, Lord. I would sure have loved to have heard that." He shook his head.

"What I don't understand is who in the hell watches her? I don't know of anybody who believes a word of anything she says. Hell, everytime she reports on some celebrity kickin' the bucket Lisa checks it on the internet to see if she's telling the truth." That got another laugh out of his partner.

"Madre Rosa says she doesn't have what it takes - no lasting power." He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket as it rang. "Hey, Michelle."

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm alright."

"Good. Well, I've got some news on the jerk that hit you. The paint comes back as Chevy's Dark Huron Blue. It's been used on quite a few years. However, I saw that you said that you thought it was a late eighties or early nineties model - and it was used in those years so chances are pretty good that you were right."

"That's good. I sure appreciate it, hon."

"Not a problem. Take care of yourself."

As Matt ended the call, Chuck's phone rang. "Yeah? You're kiddin' me. Where?" He began writing on a notepad. "No, hold it there. We're on the way." He hung up and wagged a finger at his partner. "We've got a truck that matches the description you gave." Both men started out of the building. "It's over on Huffman-New Caney Road."

"That's awful close to the ranch." There was a touch of concern in his voice that Chuck noticed.

"Uh huh. I'll take my life in my hands and ride with you." He gave his friend a crooked grin and got into the Suburban. "Nice ride. Maybe I should get chummy with the boss."

"I swear I'll beat the snot out of you, Chuck."

"Just jokin', man. Calm down."

They chatted about their families on the way back across the lake and arrived to find a county unit and a tow truck on the scene.

"Bivens, how ya doing?" Matt shook hands with the deputy that he had worked with a few times.

"Pretty good. Think this is the one that tried to run you off the bridge?" He jerked his head in the direction of the truck that had been abandoned in a patch of woods just off the road.

"I believe it might be." Matt walked around the truck. "Somebody didn't know how to burn it, that's for sure. And it looks like transfer off of the Suburban." He put on a pair of nitrile gloves and opened the passenger door of the 1989 Chevy and took a whiff. "Gas." Looking in the floorboard he noticed a piece of plastic tubing. "Might be that he used that to siphon the gas out of the tank."

Bivens spoke up. "It was reported stolen yesterday afternoon at about 1:30 from a fitness center down on East Freeway. Owner comes back clean as a whistle. One speeding ticket twenty two years ago."

"Mmph." The men gave the truck a good looking-over. "Maybe CSU will be able to give us something." He looked up to see Michelle Rodolfo exiting a van and bringing a case with her.

"You just keep turning up this morning."

"So it seems."

"Is this an '89?"

"Yup."

"Not bad." She went about dusting for prints and was coming up empty until she dusted the rearview mirror. "Gotcha…" Collecting the print and putting it on a card, she scanned it. "No hits locally." There was a general sound of irritation. "But let's try...bingo." Matt immediately went to her side. "It's comes back to a Besnik Alban Dibra. Gad what a name. And here's why: he's from Albania."

"Albania?" Chuck looked shocked. "Why in the hell would some dude from Albania try to run you off the road?"

"Well…" Matt absently scratched his mustache with his thumbnail. "Maybe he didn't try. It could have been an accident. Does he have a record?"

"Drunk and disorderly."

"Do you have an address on him?"

"Last known address was from six years ago in Chicago when he got popped on the D&D."

"Mmph." Chuck shook his head.

"Can you send me that information, hon?"

"Sure can."

"Appreciate it." Matt turned and went back toward the SUV.

"And be careful out there - I kinda like having you around no matter what Tamara Placer says." The reply was a hand waving back over his shoulder before he got into the Suburban.

Chuck climbed up in the passenger side. "So do you know anybody from Albania?"

"No…" Matt's mind was racing back to three months earlier when he had nearly been shot twice within two days' time. The man who had tried to shoot him the first time had an accent that could well have been Albanian. They had never gotten an ID on him and as far as Matt knew, his body was still lying unclaimed in cold storage at the morgue in Los Angeles.

"Houston." Matt's phone rang as he put the SUV in park in the parking lot of 1200 Baker Street.

"It's Zoe Stone. I think I remembered where I saw that man."

"You do? Where?"

"At the hospital when Xavier went in for the transplant."

"Are you at home?"

"Yes."

"I'll be right there." He hung up and looked over to Chuck who had been about to exit the vehicle. "Zoe Stone thinks she might have figured out who the guy is."

"Let's go." He closed the door and his partner backed out of the parking space headed for Shay Lane. Matt punched Littlebear's number and hit the speaker.

Michael answered the phone on the second ring. "I heard you got into a bit of a scrape last night." The detective leaned back from his computer monitor and rubbed his eyes.

"Funny." He went on to tell the cop about the phone call.

"That would be some welcome news. I've been trying to work every angle that I can come up with and have been hitting brick walls."

"I'll let you know." Hanging up, Matt hit I-69 North, quietly turning over everything in his mind. On one hand he was thinking about the Stone-Bell-Bohlmann case and on the other the hit and run the night before. The more he thought about it, the more he was beginning to think that there was really someone after him - again. The fact that both men might be from Albania was too much of a coincidence. And then he reminded himself that he didn't know for a fact that the assailant in LA had actually been from there.

"What're you stewing over?"

"Nothing."

"Horse hockey. Out with it."

"Nothing."

"You really suck at lying. Always have." He didn't get a response.

He wanted to call George, but not with Chuck or anyone else around. His radar was going off loudly now, since Michelle had told him the name of the would-be attacker from the bridge. As soon as he was clear of everyone, the PI would be getting a phone call. He forced that matter to the back of his mind and once again began concentrating on what Zoe Stone had told him.

"You know, transplants are rough - not just on the patient but their families, too." He was thinking outloud and Chuck grunted his agreement. "Could be this guy had someone there on the list, too."

"Could be. You know, we seem to have a record of cases related to transplants, pard."

Matt chuckled thinking back a couple of years to one of Chuck's first cases as a detective. "I believe you're right."

They arrived at the home on Shay Lane and rang the bell. Matt almost instantly got a look on his face. "What?" Chuck looked strangely at his friend.

"Something's wrong." Houston drew his pistol and flattened himself against the wall, Chuck following his lead and lowering his voice to a whisper.

"What?"

"The dogs - they aren't barking." He glanced toward the living room windows on his right: the blinds were closed. They hadn't been when he had been there before. He motioned for Chuck to stay put and he would go around to the back. Bending almost double, the tall detective went around the right side of the house, carefully peering into the windows as he went and seeing nothing. When he reached the kitchen window at the back of the house, he stopped: inside tied up in the kitchen chairs were Zoe and her mother. He heard them yelling at a man who matched the description that Josey Bohlmann had given. Squatting down against the back of the building he pulled out his phone and texted Chuck: "guy has them tied up - go on 3 after the whippoorwill". He received the acknowledgement and went toward the door, carefully checking to see if it was locked. It was. Readying himself, he whistled, counted to three, and turned to kick the door right next to the knob. It crashed open as he heard Chuck make entry through the front door.

The man was standing with a large butcher knife in his right hand, his left full of Xavier's hair as he savagely jerked the boy's head backward at an awkward angle. "Drop it." Matt's voice was calm.

"No."

Chuck made his way back through the house silently, reaching the kitchen door as the man spoke again.

"He's got her heart."

"He's got the heart the doctors gave him." Houston sidled forward a couple of steps.

"It was supposed to be Brianna's."

Zoe shook her head no. "She was too sick, Gavin! They-"

"Of course she was sick! She needed the heart. But they gave it to him and she didn't even last a week." Tears began coursing down his cheeks. "He would have lived if they had given it to her."

"The doctors have a method for deciding who's most likely to survive the operation." Houston took another step toward Mrs. Everhart.

"They were wrong! Brianna would have made it! She was a fighter!"

A quiet voice spoke. "She was my friend." Xavier had tears running down his face now. Chuck was moving toward the man whose attention was now on the boy. "When they told me I was getting the heart I didn't want to take it away from her. But she told me it was okay. She knew she wasn't going to make it."

"She would have! All she need-" He found himself falling to the floor as Chuck seized the arm holding the knife and pulled backward, causing not only the suspect but Xavier to fall to the floor. Matt rushed forward and pulled the boy to safety as his friend wrestled with the man, hitting his wrist against the leg of the table causing the blade to fly away. With the two detectives now taking hold of him, the man began howling. They turned him over and cuffed him.

"Are you okay, bud?" Matt untied the boy who was still crying. "Easy now. Try to calm down. It's going to be okay." He called into the office and for an ambulance as Chuck untied the boy's mother and grandmother. The two women immediately swooped down on him, pulling him close.

Turning his attention to Chuck, he noticed that he had gotten sliced on his left forearm. Reaching over, he grabbed a kitchen towel and began applying pressure on the cut. "You get cut anywhere else?"

"No. I'm good." He watched as Matt hauled the man to his feet and took him out of the house.

Leaning him against the front of the SUV, Houston patted him down and removed his wallet while the man continued crying out, "It isn't fair!" While the license identified the man as Gavin Leland Kirkland the picture on it didn't look like him hardly at all; he had lost a tremendous amount of weight and his eyes were dark-ringed and sunken. The photographs inside the wallet showed that he had at least two other children. Matt could tell by looking at the pictures that one girl was extremely frail. Apparently she had been the youngest. He looked back to the man as sirens closed in on their location and thought about his own children: how would he feel if any of them had been in the same situation?


	12. Chapter 12

**12 - Resolution**

After stashing Kirkland in the Suburban, Houston went back into the house to find Chuck in the front hallway with the family. Both dogs had apparently been hit with a bat that was in the floor. The German Shepherd was wounded but alive. Unfortunately the Chihuahua hadn't been able to make it through the blows.

"What do you think?" Chuck looked up at Matt as the shepherd whined.

Kneeling down beside the dog he gently ran his hands over its body. "Easy, Daisy." The fur on her head was matted with blood and the left eye was swollen shut. "Think she may have a cracked rib." Pulling his phone out of the pocket of his shirt he quickly went through his contacts, found the number he was looking for, and dialed. "Art, it's Houston. I need your help."

A short time later while the CSU techs were gathering evidence, Matt and a squat older mustachioed fellow carefully loaded Daisy on a stretcher and carried the dog out to a waiting van and eased it inside. Agnes Everhart climbed inside, cradling the dog's head in her lap. "I'm not sure we can afford to pay for this." She looked to the vet.

"Paid in full." He slid the door closed and climbed in behind the wheel.

Matt walked over to where Chuck was arguing with Xavier inside the ambulance. "Now son, you're gonna go get checked out. Don't give your mama any more lip." He started to climb out but was held back by his friend.

"And you're going to ride with him and get that arm taken care of, pard. Sit on down."

"Nah, it's fine."

"Good. So you won't be surprised when the doc gives you some stitches." He ignored Chuck's spluttering. "How ya doin', Xavier?"

The boy still had tears in his eyes. "Scooter…" He wiped away a few escaping tears. "He tried to protect us. Bit Mr. Kirkland."

Nodding, the detective spoke. "He was a good little dog. Did his job. And we'll give him a good send off. But right now you need to go let the doc look at you." His answer was a nod.

"I don't think I can ever thank both of you enough." Zoe was still shaking. "How did you know something was wrong?"

Houston gave a sad smile. "The dogs weren't barking."

While Chuck was at the ER, Matt dealt with the investigation and then went back to the office, meeting Littlebear at the coffee pot. "So just jump in and leave me out of all the fun why don't you?" The cop tried for an angry look.

"I'll let you handle the paperwork."

"Never mind."

"That's what I thought." Sighing, he started toward the interrogation rooms. "This case is depressing as hell."

"Most murders are."

They entered the room where a deputy was keeping an eye on Kirkland. "Mr. Kirkland…" Matt took a seat across from him. "I'd like to remind you of your rights again." He rattled off the Miranda warning. "So I understand you did all this because your daughter didn't get the heart transplant."

Slowly, Kirkland looked up at him, an expression of complete exasperation on his face. "It was supposed to be her turn."

The interview went downhill from there, ending with Kirkland being put into a restraint chair after he tried to break free and attack both of the detectives as well as the deputy. As he went back toward the cubicle Matt could still hear him screaming, "What would you do if it was your kid?!"

"You were right." Littlebear sat down in Chuck's chair.

"About?"

"This case is depressing as hell."

A press conference was held two hours later on the front steps of the office with Martinez, Chief Guzman, Houston, Littlebear, and a heavily bandaged Wylie standing in front of the slew of reporters. Martinez had skillfully filled them in on what had happened and how Kirkland had been apprehended while Guzman thanked the sheriff and her officers for helping with the investigation. All went well until Guzman made the mistake of taking a question from Tamara Placer.

"Chief, what is your take on the Martinez-Houston affair?" The reporter's eyes glinted maliciously as she asked the question, her gaze going from the chief to the sheriff to Houston and then landing back on the shocked face of Guzman.

"Ms. Placer, it's my understanding that reporters report the facts - not personal prejudices. Next question." He moved on to the next reporter as Matt stared at her from under the white straw hat, the fury in his eyes unmistakable.

Back at the ranch, CJ was watching it unfold on TV and caught the expression on her husband's face. "Take it easy, Cowboy."

Madre Rosa had been watching from the doorway. "She needs to be barred from reporting."

"That isn't how freedom of the press works." The lawyer flipped off the television as the press conference ended, and turned back to the laptop in front of her on the study's desk.

"One of these days she's going to end up dead. That's all I'm going to say." Angrily, the older woman turned and went back toward the kitchen. Heaving a sigh, CJ went back to what she had been about to do - which was dig into Matt's family tree.

After the press conference, Houston went back to his cubicle, hoping that the reporters would leave so that he could get out of the building without having to run the gauntlet. His phone rang. "Houston."

"Hi, it's Zoe."

"How's Xavier?"

"He's okay. The doctor said there isn't any damage at all. It's just so hard not to worry about him."

"Yes, ma'am."

"We're heading back to the house. But I wondered if it's okay for us to go back there? I mean…"

Matt understood what she meant. The Stone home on Lakeshore Drive still had a seal on the door.

"I'll head that way and meet you there."

"Thank you."

He got out of the chair and shut off the monitor, making his way to the glass doors. It appeared that the reporters had left. Stepping out onto the steps he looked around the lot, this time looking for more than just the reporters, and seeing nothing unusual he went to the Suburban.

He made it back to the house on Shay Lane before the Stones and saw that the techs had already left, so he leaned against the front of the SUV waiting for the family. A few minutes later mother and son pulled into the driveway along with the grandmother.

"How's Daisy?" He opened the door for the older woman.

"Dr. Mulrooney says she should be fine. Just needs some time."

"Good. He's a good doc."

"But I'm worried about the bill. I-"

"Don't. It's all taken care of - nothing to worry about." They went into the house, finding that someone - most likely one of the techs - had covered up Scooter with a small sheet. Xavier knelt down beside the little dog, laying his hand on top of it.

"Have you got a shovel?" Matt spoke to Mrs. Everhart who silently nodded, leading the way outside to a small shed where the detective picked up the tool.

"You really don't have to do this." She dabbed at tears.

"He was a good dog. Gotta respect that. Where do you want him?" He followed her to the back of the yard where a young oak tree was growing and began digging. It didn't take long for such a small hole, and as he went back in for the Chihuahua a very light rain began to fall. Gently he wrapped the little body up in the sheet and carried it out, carefully placing it down in the hole. A few words were said over Scooter, and as the rain picked up he began replacing the dirt.

After he helped Zoe clean up the blood in the hallway he washed his hands, and then sat down at the kitchen table for a glass of tea, talking with them for a few minutes before standing to leave.

"Guess I better get on home before my kids drive everybody up a wall." He smiled down at Xavier.

"Do you think I could be a cop?" The boy's question had taken everyone by surprise, none more so than Matt.

"Well…" He thought about it. "I don't know. That's something that you would need to talk to your doctor about I guess." A look of disappointment flooded the young face. "But even if you can't, there are a lot of other things that you could do." He saw the disgusted look that followed. "You know there are a lot more folks with the department than just cops. There are lab techs, and dispatchers - all kinds of folks."

"A lab tech?"

"Uh huh. Do you like Science?"

"Yeah." There was a hopeful glimmer in the boy's eyes now.

"I know just the lady for you to talk to then. And here…" He removed another of his cards from his pocket and pulled out his phone, jotting down the number of Michelle Rodolfo. "Here's her number. She's a sweet lady and about as smart as they come."

"I was afraid you were going to tell me I could be a lawyer."

"Hey, now - my wife's a lawyer." He gave the boy a mock look of disapproval as the group laughed. "Guess I better head on. Y'all let me know if you need anything."

The ride to the ranch was rainy but uneventful and as he parked behind the house he could see his entire family sitting on the porch swings, noticing once again that Marty and Sheila were next to each other. "Uh huh," he said to himself. "I wonder…"

Catey and the twins met him at the top of the steps demanding to be picked up. He scooped up all three and took a seat next to CJ on the swing, the pair trying to share a kiss as the kids did their best to keep them apart.


End file.
